Selling the Farm
by Evenstar656
Summary: Jim rose up to look into the mirror and before McCoy could react, he sent his fist into the glass. Post STID & follow up to 'Starfleet Medical Hustle'.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Selling the Farm

Author: Evenstar656

Summary: Jim rose up to look into the mirror and before McCoy could react, he sent his fist into the glass. Post STID & follow up to 'Starfleet Medical Hustle'.

Spoilers: Star Trek Into Darkness, general AOS

Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount.

Author's Notes: Well, its finally here. Although it's not complete (it's mostly complete…I think) I wanted to go ahead and get things going. It's been a much slower process than I anticipated, but it is quite a bit longer than SFM Hustle. It's not necessary to have read it previously; this could stand by itself for the most part. As always, although I am a doctor I'm not that kind so I happily practice with my fictional degree. Things have been invented and stretched for the sake of the story. I hope you enjoy!

_I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta'd_

###

"Follow my finger," McCoy was in full doctor mode waving his finger methodically in front of Jim's face and watching his eyes track it.

Jim was too exhausted to complain as McCoy asked him to squeeze his hands and wiggle his toes. The act of simply being awake was sapping all of his energy; he couldn't even lift his head off the pillow. He watched McCoy pull the sheet and blanket back over his bare feet and sit on the side of the bed next to him to input his results.

"How do you feel, Jim?"

"Tired," Jim blinked wearily.

"You're gonna feel that way for a while. Saying that your body has been through a lot is an understatement. Any pain, nausea, or dizziness?"

Now that McCoy brought it up he could feel an ache that had settled deep into his bones and any slight movement would cause it to flare up. Dying and coming back to life apparently took quite a toll on the body.

"Everything kinda hurts."

"Okay, I'll get you something for that. You're on a pretty potent cocktail of painkillers and other meds right now, but if it gets worse I need you to tell me. If anything feels off I need you to be honest, we're in uncharted territory here."

He remembered the relieved faces that greeted him when he first woke up should've explained it all to him. Even Spock had looked genuinely happy to see him. They had assured him that he was going to be okay, that his crew was okay, and that his ship was damaged but would be repaired before he was pulled back under.

"How bad did it get? Chekov was here when I woke up…"

The poor boy had tripped over his own two feet with excitement to alert McCoy that his Captain had woken up again. Truth be told, McCoy was just as excited to see Jim awake but he kept himself together walking into the ICU room.

"We didn't want to leave you alone," McCoy said quietly.

_Of course things were bad; you died_. Jim seemed to process the words and the connotation implied. Things must've been really bad for McCoy not to say anything directly. Normally the man had to be reminded to be subtle. However he was grateful for not bringing it up, he didn't have the stamina for that impending conversation.

He had a ton of questions to ask but his body wasn't cooperating. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier by the second and no amount of willpower was stopping them from dropping as the biobed underneath him leveled out.

"Rest, Jim."

McCoy watched as Jim's eyes fluttered shut after a brief struggle to remain open. He brushed an errant lock of hair off Jim's forehead and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. Jim looked every bit the kid he was. McCoy tapped the commands to deliver the promised pain medication and Jim sighed with relief.

Chekov was waiting for him outside of the ICU room when he stepped out to go home.

"Is ewerything okay?" the asked eagerly.

"Yep, I'm all done in there."

"Can I go back in?"

"Of course. He should sleep for the rest of the night with what I just gave him so I'm headed out. Comm me if you need me."

"Don't worry, Doctor McCoy, I will be most wigilant," he assured the doctor.

McCoy nodded and patted the boy on his shoulder. Since the crew rotations started he'd made a conscious effort to go home every night and sleep in his bed. Luckily the hospital was keeping him busy with other patients so falling asleep was blessedly easy, but he'd wake up at least once panting from a nightmare.

The tired man sank into his bed after stripping down to his shorts. He set his alarm and made sure the alert was at its loudest on his comm unit before rolling over and drifting off to sleep.

###

His skin was on fire and his arms were weakening with exertion. He looked around and saw that was in the core again, hanging on for dear life on the manifold. The bottom manifold suddenly shifted into place and there was a bright blue flash causing him to jerk in response.

"Jim?" a sweet voice called out to him.

"What?" he answered without opening his eyes.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah," he opened his eyes to see his communications officer beaming back at him.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," he squeezed the warm hand that had found its way into his.

"How do you feel?"

"Alive," he said after taking a moment to catalogue the various aches and pains throughout his body.

"That you are," Uhura looked down.

"I've been told that you had something to do with it. Thank you."

"Don't say anything, people might actually think I like you," she looked up grinning.

"Your secret is safe with me," the sick man managed a quick smile.

"Leonard's the one you really need to thank, he was the one that actually brought you back to us."

Jim nodded; he knew he owed his best friend everything. Even his tired mind could put together from their brief conversation that he'd put the poor man through the wringer. _I know I should be happy but_—

"You're awake again," a distinctly southern voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Speak of the devil," Jim supplied.

"Yeah, you're gonna be calling me that after what I'm about to do to you."

Jim noticed that the man's hands were full. Lying there on a tray was the biggest syringe he'd ever seen in his life filled with some thick yellow fluid flanked by a few smaller, and less menacing ones. His grip on Uhura's hand tightened before she could get out of the chair.

"Your bone marrow is shot so we've started you on some stem cell therapy to get your immune system up and going again," the doctor set the tray down on a hovering table.

Jim's mind was too slow to protest McCoy exposing his hip, "What is that?" he saw a metal cannula disappearing into his skin.

"We've been injecting it directly into your marrow. I'm gonna inject a local first," McCoy explained as he took one of the small syringes and attached it to the port at the end of the plastic tubing taped to Jim's skin.

Jim was about to ask why but he saw McCoy depress the plunger and his vision went white. The pain in his hip was overwhelming; it was indescribable. He'd never felt a pain so deep before. He barely registered Uhura tightening her grip as he was left breathless.

"Breathe, Jim, let the medicine work," the doctor was attaching another smaller syringe.

"No more," he gasped.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but you need this," McCoy was pressing down on the plunger.

The next wave of pain was dulled, but it still made him grit his teeth. It was too difficult to try and contain his emotions in front of Uhura; she placed her blessedly cool hand on his head.

"Okay, last one," the largest syringe was twisted into place, "You ready?"

McCoy saw Jim clench his eyes shut and nod. It broke his heart to do this to the man after everything he'd been through but it'd all be for nothing if someone sneezed on him and killed him. He steeled himself for what he was about to do.

"Breathe through it," he began inching the plunger down.

Jim kept from crying out but McCoy saw a tear slide down the man's face. Uhura looked like she was about to cry too but she held it together and whispered soothingly into her captain's ear. He depressed the plunger as quickly as was safe, but there was a lot of fluid that had to go in.

"I'm all done, Jim," McCoy injected the last few milliliters. "Pain meds are on their way," he quickly commanded the IV box to deliver a dose of analgesics.

"That was brutal," Jim was trying to catch his breath.

"I know, I'm sorry. You're almost done with the series though, only three more treatments but they're spaced out to every other day," McCoy put the hospital gown and bed sheets back in place before disposing of the equipment in a biotrash chute.

"Don't tell anyone," Jim turned his head to face his comms officer.

"I promise. I'll be here for all of them if you want?" Uhura ran her fingers through his golden locks.

A weary nod was her only reply. She continued to run her fingers through his hair until the exhaustion from the pain and the analgesics caught up with him and he drifted off. Her gazed turned to the doctor who looked devastated. The man was a miracle worker and had fought to bring Jim back from death's clutches. She was certain that inflicting that much pain was more than he could take after watching his best friend fight for his life over the past two weeks. There had been hints as to how he truly felt about Jim's death, but she imagined that he had to shove them deep down to focus.

"I can't do this to him, but I can't let someone else do it either. He's been through so much already," McCoy tiredly sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It's not going to be easy," she pulled her hand from Jim's tresses and grasped the doctor's shaking hands.

"It never is with Jim Kirk is it?" he forced a smile.

"No it's not. We're here for him and for _you_, Leonard. We will get through this."

McCoy took a deep breath and nodded, "I have rounds but I'll be back later to sit with him for a bit."

"Take all the time you need, you need to be strong for him."

###

"How many were lost?"

"Doctor McCoy threatened me with enough hypos to kill me if I told you anything," the helmsman wasn't so easily swayed.

"Sulu," Jim pleaded.

"No way, and don't think about pulling rank either," Sulu returned to the novel he'd been reading from.

"No one will tell me anything."

"You need to focus on yourself."

Jim's mind was still slow but it was still active enough to start driving his 'babysitters' crazy with his questioning during his brief snippets of consciousness. So many questions needed answers.

There wasn't a chronometer anywhere to be seen so he'd measured the time by the visitors that were there during his moments of wakefulness. Bones had sat with him silently for a while during what he assumed to be the previous day, and Spock was there when he woke up from another nightmare sometime during the night. This time it was growing dark again and Sulu was here and was reading aloud from a silly Western novel.

He'd done nothing but lay in bed while specialists and nurses checked on him, tested his various functions, replenished his IVs, ran scans, took blood samples, and emptied a bag of his urine that was collecting on the side of the biobed. The nurse who'd done it last had been way too cheery and he nearly died of embarrassment when he realized that he'd pissing via a catheter. _I did not sacrifice myself to have a tube shoved up my dick. _The sad thing was there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it other than lay there and sleep. He was so frustrated.

"Please, Sulu, how many?" he'd managed to summon enough strength to rub his eyes with his hand.

Sulu stopped reading and sighed, setting down the book.

"I just want to know…"

"I know you do, but we worked too hard to bring you back. You just woke up from a coma."

Again he could read between the lines. If his crew had been given specific instructions not to tell him then the number had to be high. Of course it had to be high with the amount of damage his ship had taken during its confrontation with the _Vengeance_ and then its plummet to Earth.

"That bad?"

Sulu's lack of response was everything he needed to know, the losses were severe.

"And Khan?"

Finally an answer he could give Sulu let loose a breath he'd been holding, "He's awaiting to be tried for his crimes."

_At least something went as planned_.

"The _Vengeance_?"

"Jim, please rest. Doctor McCoy will be upset with the both of us."

Another deflected question, another bad outcome. The only really bad thing that could come from a damaged ship like that was it crashing into something, it's not like Khan had left its crew alive.

"What did it hit?"

"Captain…"

"What did it hit?" Jim tried to be as commanding as he could be in his weakened state.

"No, Jim," Sulu snapped the book shut.

Jim wisely backed off; he'd never seen Sulu snap before. Luckily he was saved by a nurse who came to do her final checks before the night shift took over. She smiled sweetly at him before lowering the head of the biobed and tucking him in. His weakened body had no energy to spare to fight the wave of exhaustion that was suddenly washing over him. Something must've dosed itself into the IV line feeding into his veins.

"Just rest Jim, I promise we'll tell you everything when you're up for it."

He really wished people would stop telling him to rest but his body had other ideas and pulled him under without much of a fight.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I feel bad for not doing this at the start of the story, but I have to thank all of you who provided valuable insight in your feedback for SFM, those discussions have definitely driven this story. Poor Jim and Bones. Another 'thank you' to those of you who have taken the time to review this story and alert/follow/favorite it!

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Chapter 2

###

The flesh on his arms began blistering and peeling away to reveal raw muscle and tendons underneath. Horrified, he looked around him. The metal around him was buckling and twisting in on itself around him. There was a light was coming from a doorway in the groaning metal; he ran towards it. On the other side of the glass was his crew, his family, all suffering the same fate with their skin melting away in searing the grotesque image into his brain. He was pounding furiously on the glass to be let out.

"_Jim!"_

"_Jim, wake up. You're okay."_

"_Dammit man, breathe!"_

He was gasping for air like he'd just ran a marathon on Vulcan. Something hard and plastic was pushed over his nose and mouth. He sucked the flowing oxygen greedily into his panting lungs. The only thing he could see when he opened his eyes was white with a shock of jet-black hair.

"Breathe, Jim," the voice instructed.

He forced his lungs to take in more oxygen. There was a sharp bite at his neck and the man hovering over him swam into focus. The weight that was sitting on his chest suddenly lifted and he was able to breathe easier.

"Bones," he lay there panting into the mask on his face.

"I'm here. Nightmare?" there was nothing but concern written all over his friend's face.

Jim closed his eyes and nodded, he was exhausted. It seemed like every time he closed his eyes his mind would turn against him and he would ultimately wake up in a panic.

"Give it time, Jim. You went through a lot and you only woke up three days ago," McCoy pulled the mask off his face now that he was breathing better.

"What time is it?" he scanned the room for clues to what time it was. He felt so disconnected from everything that was going on outside his hospital room.

"Just past 1300 hours. Why, gotta hot date?"

Jim tried to smirk but he wasn't in the mood, "Can I have a data pad?"

His request seemed to infuriate the doctor, "Absolutely not. I heard what you asked Sulu last night. You _died_, Jim, do you understand that? You are going to lie there and rest so you can recover. I know that you have questions and you want answers, but you need to get better. We, _I_,have worked too hard to get you this far so you can overexert yourself and cause more problems. I promise we'll answer all of your questions, when you're stronger."

McCoy saw Jim flinch and he wanted to apologize but he wasn't sorry. It was a given that Jim was going to be a pain in his ass when he woke up, but he wasn't prepared mentally for it. Every time he saw those shocking blue eyes he could see them staring lifelessly back at him, reminding him that he wasn't there when Jim died. It had been easier to force these feelings away while he'd been fighting for the man's life but now that he was awake he couldn't stop them from bubbling up.

"I'm sorry, Bones. I feel like I just lay here. I can't even stay awake for more than fifteen minutes like two or three times a day."

"Jim, you were in a coma for two weeks and barely had any brain function for half of that. Your own heart didn't beat for a week and a half, a machine had to do it for you. You're not going to bounce back from something like this. We're talking about recovery in terms of months, not days or weeks."

Alarm bells were going off in McCoy's head; he needed to get a psych consult soon.

"I'll make you a deal. You cooperate until you're out of the ICU and then I'll see about getting you your data pad."

"When will that be?"

"Jim, take it or leave it as it is."

"Fine," the sick man grumbled.

"Deal then," McCoy stuck out his hand.

Jim gave the outstretched hand a weak and unenthusiastic shake; this was the best he was going to get for now.

"Now, since you're already thrilled with me it's almost time for your stem cell therapy. As soon as Uhura gets here I'll do it."

All of the color drained from his face, "Bones, please don't."

McCoy studied his best friend; he didn't want to inflict that pain on him again, "I can get Doctor Boyce or someone else to do it if you want me to, but it has to be done."

Jim didn't say anything immediately afterwards. He really didn't want to go through it again, but seeing as he had little choice in the matter it might as well be Bones.

"You do it, Bones, I trust you."

He thought he saw a flash a disappointment on the doctor's face but he was distracted by his communications officer's arrival to get another look before it disappeared.

"Sorry I'm late, Jim. I've been setting up communication stations downtown…" Uhura realized she let a crucial bit of information slip and quickly clammed up.

"What's going on downtown?" of course Jim picked up on it.

"They just needed a hand and since we're grounded I got called in," Uhura played it off seamlessly as she perched on the edge of the biobed, blocking Jim's view of McCoy's hands.

"Okay, Jim, let's get this over with," McCoy was preparing the first syringe that he'd picked up off a tray that had been hidden out of the way. This time he sent a dose of analgesics before he got started.

Uhura got her hand in her Captain's hand just in time before it clenched. She took a quick look in McCoy's direction to see him grimacing just as much as Jim was.

"God," Jim panted after the first injection was finished.

"I know, only one more set after today," McCoy called over Uhura's shoulder, "Here's the next one."

Jim was about to reply but the pain put an end to any other thought going through his head. He tried to focus on Uhura's soothing voice and what she was saying, but the pain brought him back to the warp core and how he had a few minutes to wait as his organs had failed him one by one until he died. He remembered the agony as his body struggled and he had been silently begging for a reprieve. It was like a switch had been flipped and all the pain went away and he could feel himself relaxing as the darkness overtook him.

"_Captain?"_

"_Jim? Are you with me?"_

"_I think he passed out."_

There was a hard rub against his sternum that pulled him up from the darkness, he couldn't help but groan. He leaned into the cool hand that was combing through his hair.

"_He's comin' around. Jim?"_

"_It's all over now. Leonard's done."_

It was too hard to open his eyes; something was pulling him back under. The other side of the bed dipped and a rough hand grabbed his. _Bones._

"I'm sorry, Jim, I wouldn't do this to you unless it was necessary."

The pain was too intense; he wasn't thinking clearly and it slipped out before he could pull it back in, "…should've left me dead."

He heard a small gasp above him and the hand being held by his best friend was gently set down on the bed. The biobed's mattress rebounded from the weight being removed. There was a cheery melody coming from a commands being input into a control panel off to his side and wave of warmth rushed over him. He tried to focus on the conversation going on over him but whatever was injected into him pulled him under too fast for him to put up a fight.

McCoy stood frozen at the IV stand, his finger still poised over the 'deliver' key. Jim's words had sent an ice pick straight through his heart.

"Leonard?" Uhura was still stroking Jim's hair as his breathing evened out.

"Should I have?" his voice cracked.

"He didn't mean that."

"He meant it."

"When someone is in that much pain they just want it to be over, you know that."

"It would be over if I hadn't of dragged him back from peace."

Uhura crossed over to McCoy, "You can't do this to yourself. He's alive because of you."

"He's in pain because of me," he could feel moisture collecting at the corners of his eyes.

"Yes, he's in pain, but it will go away. This is going to take time."

He was angry that he didn't get to see Jim before he died yet heartbroken that he'd ripped a man from a well-earned peace. _Was it selfish of me to do this? To bring fucking Captain James T. Kirk back to life? _

McCoy gave Jim one last look before moving to the door, "I'm leaving, comm me if you need anything."

The door hissed open and without a look back he stepped into the hallway.

###

Jim's wordsreplayed over and over in his head and each time his heart skipped a beat. Everything he'd worked so hard for over the past few weeks was swept away with four words. Words from the man he dragged back from death. He had defied the laws of nature all so he could have his best friend back. It was selfish of him. There were thousands of people who were killed in this fiasco and he chose Jim to bring back. _Who am I to decide who lives and who dies?_

The admirals at his debriefing had made it clear that he had been emotionally compromised when he made the decision to save Jim. _Did Jim even want to be saved?_ He'd never even thought to ask him what he wanted to be done in that situation; there were no such things as 'no win' scenarios in James T. Kirk's life. It never occurred to ask him now that it was too late.

He didn't know what he felt worse over, the fact that he didn't get to say goodbye or the fact that he saved a man who wanted to die. Though for a man who wanted to die he had clung fiercely to life once he had been brought back. Images of Jim dead in a flag draped steel coffin flashed before his eyes. _Was that what he wanted?_

There was no stopping the tears trailing down his cheeks. Shaking hands groped for a tumbler and the bottle of bourbon. The bottle clinked against the glass as he poured himself several fingers and tossed it back all at once. He relished the burn as the liquor hit his tongue and traveled down his esophagus. The warmth was soothing and steadier hands poured another glassful. He tossed the amber liquid back after grabbing a sponge and bucket. Cleaning the old fashioned way was cathartic, not that his apartment had gotten messy since the last time he was on a cleaning spree.

After the twenty minutes it took to straighten what little mess there was, he found himself sitting on his sofa with the decanter of bourbon and his tumbler. Another three fingers and the pleasant buzz he had going was deepening into drunkenness. He didn't realize he'd already passed that line until he stood up to answer the door chime. It took a few pieces of furniture to steady himself on along the path but he made it to the door without too much trouble.

"What do ya want?" he grumbled opening the door.

"Doctor McCoy," Spock was internally taken aback by the doctor's haggard appearance.

"Why are you here, Spock?" McCoy stood in front of the doorway.

"May I come in?"

It finally made it through McCoy's brain that he was leaning heavily on the doorframe and moved aside to let the first officer enter.

"I'll ask again, why are you here?" the drunken man plopped down ungracefully on his sofa.

Of course Spock sat down fluidly in an armchair, "I have just returned from the dry dock and Nyota apprised me of the situation from earlier. She charged me to ascertain your well being before joining her for dinner."

"Well I'm just dandy."

Spock had seen the doctor drunk before, but this was a different kind of drunk. It was rooted in sadness.

"I believe you are over estimating your well being, doctor."

"No shit, Spock," McCoy poured himself another two fingers of bourbon.

"Truthfully, Doctor McCoy, I do not know how I can be of service."

The doctor paused for a moment before draining his glass, "Tell me it was worth it."

"To what are you referring?"

"You know what I mean you damn pointy-eared bastard."

"If you are referring to saving the Captain, then my answer is yes."

"Yes? That's all you have to say?"

"Vulcan's adopt the philosophy that the needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few, and the resurrection of the Captain will undoubtedly have a positive influence on future events and could possibly save more lives than those lost recently. On a personal level my answer is the same. I had not realized the value of our friendship until his passing."

"Even if it's not what he wanted?"

If it was even possible, Spock sat up straighter, "Should you ask this again of Jim, I anticipate that you will receive a more satisfactory answer."

"How can you be so certain? Surely your Vulcan logic can't grasp the ways of Jim Kirk."

"I have struggled whether to relay this information to you or not—"

"Don't beat around the bush, what is it?"

The Vulcan took a moment to consider how he wanted to proceed, "Jim expressed a great deal of fear as he was dying. I found it difficult and failed to contain my emotions in front of him."

The bourbon in his stomach sloshed violently. He had assumed that Jim had gone down with his trademark shit-eating grin. In reality the kid had been scared and he hadn't been there for him.

"I have come to understand that you should have been informed of the situation as humans are accustomed to saying their farewells to the dying. I apologize for not alerting you."

"I don't think I'll ever get the image of him in that damn body bag out of my head for as long as I live."

"I must agree with you, Doctor McCoy, that image was disturbing. It has caused me a great deal of discomfort."

"You mean we agree? Has the galaxy imploded?"

"It is unlikely as we are still here…and so is Jim."

"Yes he is, isn't he?"

The pair sat in an awkward silence before Spock broke it, "I must take my leave; I am supposed to procure dinner before my return to the hospital. I will see myself to the door now that I have completed my objective. I will report to Nyota that you are in an acceptable condition given the circumstances. It would prudent to remember that excessive consumption of alcohol will cause unpleasant side effects."

McCoy nodded absentmindedly; his slow brain was still processing everything. _Jim had been afraid_. It was a thought that wouldn't go away and it made his gut churn. He tried to recall a time he'd ever seen his best friend truly frightened and nothing came to mind. The bourbon continued to slosh around until it started creeping its way back up his throat. He made it to the toilet just in time for the bourbon and the sandwich he'd picked up on his way home to exit his system violently.


	3. Chapter 3

###

Jim knew McCoy was upset at him and he had every right to be. The man didn't deserve what he'd said to him. The doctor's demeanor for the past few days had been strictly professional, no joking or lectures, he was a doctor taking care of his patient. He'd finally met his attending, Doctor Boyce, and he had been the one to finish his last stem cell treatment. It was Boyce who had been checking in on him more often than McCoy. Not that he saw much of anything anyways. Despite the controlled environment in the ICU, his weakened immune system had offered no resistance to an infection that had decided to settle in his lungs and had sent him into a fevered delirium.

He felt as if he was burning up in the atmosphere with his ship until he finally returned to awareness a few days later soaked with his own sweat and a bad taste in his mouth. A deep breath caused his lungs to spasm and the next thing he knew he was coughing up dark phlegm into a dish that had been shoved under his chin.

"Should I call the nurse?" a familiar voice wafted over him.

He'd know that voice anywhere; he opened his eyes to see a swirl of golden blonde hair.

"Mom?" his throat felt like he'd been gargling gravel and there was a rattle deep in his chest.

"Hey sweetie," she set the dish down and put her cool hand on his sweaty forehead.

"H..how?"

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I came as soon as I was told; I was at Starbase 25 and I took the first transport back. I got in two days ago but you've been pretty sick," her fingers were combing through his hair.

Jim sized up his mother; she looked exhausted. There were more wrinkles around her green eyes than the last time he saw her at the _Enterprise's_ launch under his command. He was suddenly really glad that they'd repaired their relationship and she was here now.

"What did they tell you?"

"Well, Starfleet would only tell me that you'd been critically injured, but Leonard told me everything," a tear escaped from her eye.

"Everything?"

"Everything, Jim. I'm so proud of you. Your father would be proud too," she slid her hand down to cup her son's check.

_My father_. Until now he hadn't even put it together that he'd sacrificed himself just like his father had, for his crew's survival. It was the epitome of living in someone's shadow. The only difference was that he was brought back. _It wasn't fair._ He could feel his congested lungs seize, cutting off any oxygen from getting to the rest of his body. His body began rebelling and set off a series of gasps punctuated by coughs.

Winona Kirk watched as her son tried to pull in air only to trigger a vicious coughing attack. The number displaying is oxygen saturation on the biomonitor quickly turned orange and began flashing.

"Jim, sweetie, look at me," she put her hands on either side of Jim's face, "Breathe, sweetie."

"What's going on?" a frazzled Doctor McCoy slid through the door without waiting for it to open fully.

"We were just talking and he started panicking," Winona stammered.

He deftly pushed Winona out of his way, scanning Jim with his tricorder. Nurses swarmed in a few seconds later.

"Bones," he grabbed hold of the doctor's arm.

"I'm working on it, just hang on," McCoy said tersely.

Jim coughed hard enough onto McCoy's whites to splatter them with blood. Through the haze he could see the red globules dotting the fabric. _The last time this happened you died. _More blood was coughed up. Snippets of crawling back through the access tunnel coughing up blood as his lungs were being torn apart by radiation flashed through his brain. He could hear McCoy shouting at him and he latched onto his voice.

"Shit, Jim, you have to breathe." McCoy growled, "Push 2 migs of vanazepam, and set up a 1% solution of lysatol for nebulization. Someone get me his blood counts!"

Jim tried to nod but continued to cough despite forcing some shaky breaths into his lungs. The prick of his finger was the least of his concerns.

"I'm gonna give you something to help," McCoy pushed a plastic mask over his face, "I need you to breathe it in."

Something cool and sweet was flowing through the mask, and he sucked it in as fast as he could. It set off more coughing and the inside of the mask was soon splattered with blood. He tried to shake it off but it was being firmly held against his face.

"Platelets are 12k. Hemoglobin and crit are low but within range," a nurse called out.

"Get a unit of platelets going and check his counts every two hours. Give him a unit of packed RBCs if his hemoglobin drops below 7. He's actively bleeding and we can't let it get out of control," McCoy ordered. He looked down at Jim, "C'mon, Jim."

Jim found that small shallow breaths were working better than trying to be too greedy and inhale the medication all at once. Little by little more of the meds and oxygen absorbed into his lungs and they relaxed, allowing him to take deeper breaths.

"That's it. You broke a damn blood vessel with all that coughing," McCoy was scanning Jim's throat with his tricorder.

"Sorry," was muffled by the mask.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to get all worked up you moron. I'm gonna switch you over the biobed's oxygen field okay?"

Jim nodded and the doctor removed the mask from his face. A force field on the biobed gripped itself around his lungs.

"Breathe normally, it'll sync up with you."

He took a breath and was rewarded with lungs full of oxygen without coughing. There was a warm tingling sensation in his throat as McCoy waved another wand over it. It must've sealed the blood vessel since he felt the blood pooling in this throat stop. The nurse held a dish under his chin and he spit out the last of what had accumulated.

"Better?"

"Water," he rasped.

"I know your throat hurts but I can't let you have any water yet."

Jim groaned; he watched the nurse behind McCoy snap a container filled with a honey colored substance into the IV console and attach it to the line feeding his veins. It was the first time he got a good look at the multitude of containers infusing into his arm. _Things are definitely worse than I thought._ The sight seemed to solidify a feeling that he'd quickly pushed down previously, he was really sick. His body and mind were not on the same page with each other.

"Sweetie?" he'd forgotten that his mom had been in the room with him.

He turned his head to face her and outstretched his hand for hers. There was the familiar bite at his neck and he turned quickly enough to see McCoy ejecting a hypospray cartridge.

"Stop sedating me," he grumbled.

"Start behaving. You need to rest."

"He's right, Jim, you'll get better faster if you rest," she grasped her son's reaching hand.

"That's all I do."

"You're still very sick, sweetie."

He didn't have the chance to reply as the drugs pulled him into a dreamless sleep.

"You didn't tell him anything did you?" McCoy eyed Winona.

"No, I read your threat loud and clear, Leonard."

McCoy nodded, "He's not ready to know how bad things are, he needs to heal without stress. I got a comm from Command asking when he'll be ready to be debriefed. The less outside influence the better. They won't believe his testimony if they think it's been 'corrupted', and we need to do everything we can to preserve is captaincy. I can't stop them once he's out of ICU."

"At this rate it might be a while," she set her son's hand down on the bed, "Thank you, Leonard, for everything."

"He would've done the same."

"He did, didn't he?"

###

McCoy was able to keep Jim in the ICU for another four days before Boyce had put his foot down and ordered Jim to be transferred to the step-down unit. They both knew that they were stalling for time before Command got a hold of the Captain, but they couldn't keep it up for much longer.

Jim needed a change of scenery. An unnerving depression had rooted itself in the man's mind and started to grow uncontrollably. In addition to his frustration at being incredibly weak, minor complications from his body's healing processes and side effects from all of the medications he was being given kept popping up. He would take one step forward and then two backwards.

"Alright, swish this around for me and then we'll get you moved," McCoy held up a plastic syringe full of a foul smelling purple liquid.

"Bones, that stuff is nasty," Jim grimaced as the syringe came closer to his mouth.

"Yeah well, this is what happens when you get mouth sores."

It was like trying to feed a toddler who wasn't hungry. Jim had clamped his mouth shut and turned his head from the evil smelling medicine.

"You know, the quicker these heal the quicker we can take you off of IV nutrition."

The Captain hated how easily he was manipulated but, damn, he was tired of being in the hospital and there was no foreseeable end in sight. He'd been anxious to lose some of his IV meds and McCoy had been using it to wrench his compliance from him. A few had been discontinued but not nearly enough to satisfy him. His greatest victory so far was that he'd finally convinced the doctors to start tapering down his pain meds so he wasn't so drowsy all the time.

"I don't have all day here. You're not the only patient I have to see today," the doctor was growing impatient.

The tension between the two friends was steadily growing. Neither one wanted to talk but it was clear that a lot needed to be said. It was clear that McCoy had stuffed all of the emotions that were swirling through his head down in order to concentrate on being his doctor. They could talk later when he wouldn't fall asleep mid conversation or pass out after his blood pressure tanked from sitting upright for more than thirty minutes.

"Bones, I'm tired of all of this."

"You have to take this one day at a time."

McCoy tried to inch the syringe closer to its target but the man pulled away further. Exasperated, McCoy pinched Jim's nose shut and waited for him to open his mouth to breathe before squirting the medication in. He could only imagine how that stuff tasted but Jim grimaced and dutifully began swishing the liquid around. When it was time to spit he held a cup out and the foul smelling substance was spat back out.

"Okay, you know the drill. No ice for an hour."

Jim nodded and laid his head back against the biobed. He lay there uninterested as a tech came in and detached his bed from its base. It hovered in place while all of the lines and equipment he was attached to were moved onto the biobed. The side rails were activated and the tech guided his bed out while McCoy followed with the IV console.

It felt strange and sad at the same time that this was the first time he'd seen anything other than his ICU room in weeks. People glanced at him as he floated past them but they didn't give him a second thought and continued with what they were doing. The short trip was exhausting and he promptly dozed off after being moved onto the new biobed.

"…_the man left ICU barely three hours ago!"_

"_I understand…talk to him…"_

"_As his…will not…serious."_

"_Lieutenant Commander McCoy…"_

"_Dammit, here I'm a doctor!"_

"…_tomorrow."_

Angry voices carried through the walls and his eyes snapped open. Only snippets filtered through but it was enough to know that McCoy was not happy. The man was probably going to come in and stab him with a hypo out of spite for whatever was going on.

Saying that the doctor was angry was putting it mildly; he was livid. Jim could hear him slam his hand on the wall before walking in.

"Those goddamn admirals, they think they know everything because they have a few extra stripes on their sleeves."

It pained him to see everything that his best friend was going through for him, "What's wrong?"

"They're chomping at the bit to get in here and question you," the man was poking the biomonitor screen forcibly. "They think that because you're out of the ICU you're all fine and dandy and up for the Inquisition."

"Bones…"

"No Jim, just listen. They don't understand. We tried to keep you in ICU for as long as possible."

"Bones," he reached out to grab a hand that was hanging loosely but McCoy just shook it free while continuing his rant.

Jim was stunned. McCoy was the most tactile person he'd ever known. The man was oblivious to what he'd just done and kept pacing across the room throwing his hands up in obscene gestures at imaginary opponents. _This is all my fault, I've put him through so much already_.

"Are you alright?" McCoy stopped long enough to look at the stunned expression on Jim's face.

"What?" Jim snapped out of his reverie. "Yeah, I'm good. Could I get some ice?" he quickly deflected.

McCoy had seen the look on Jim's face and had stopped mid-rant, something wasn't right. He'd carefully set a cup of ice in his hands, waiting to make sure Jim had a grip on it before letting go since he'd been having issues with his motor nerves. He watched as Jim managed to lift the spoon to his mouth. It was a far cry from having to watch him lay there as crewmembers spoon-fed him crushed ice but it was still unnerving to see the man so frail.

"More?" McCoy managed to grab the cup as it began slipping out of the Captain's hand.

There was a moment of hesitation as Jim debated whether to ask the man for help or be content with what he'd managed to feed himself. He didn't have to answer as a spoon full of ice chips was hovering in front of his mouth. The melting ice was soothing against the sores inside his mouth. He shook his head against another spoonful that was waiting. He wasn't going to keep doing this to his friends.

McCoy eyed the man in the bed critically. Even though psychology wasn't his specialty, reading Jim Kirk was. The continuing nightmares were a dead give away; Jim was not okay. He'd chalked up the irritability and sadness from the last few days in the ICU up to the inherent stress with being bedridden but something deeper was brewing in the man's mind. It wasn't uncommon for victims of trauma to have emotional issues afterwards but the key was to get them help quickly. Having died for your crew in the most agonizing and painful way possible was a guaranteed ticket for PTSD. He'd be sure to go ahead and put in that Psych consult when he got back to the nurse's station.

"Jim?"

"I'm just tired, Bones," electric blue eyes were saying a hell of a lot more.

"I bet you are, kid."

"You promised me a data pad when I left ICU."

"I did, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow after you're debriefed."

_Shit_. _That's tomorrow._ He'd been replaying all of the events since Pike's death in his head but he wasn't ready to verbalize it to Command yet.

_Pike_.

Few people could say that they'd lost two fathers in their lifetime. Pike was never supposed to be in that room, if he hadn't of fucked things up on Nibiru then the man never would've taken over his ship. He never would've been called into the emergency session. _He_ was the one that should've died, not Pike. There was no miracle serum to bring him back.

"Bones?" moisture was welling up in his eyes.

"Yeah?" the man replied softly.

"Has Pike been buried yet?"

"Yeah, Jim, a few weeks ago while you were comatose."

He waited for a reply from Jim but it didn't come. The only movement came from a tear trailing down his cheek. McCoy didn't offer any soothing words. Nothing he could say would've helped his friend's pain. He sat down on the edge of the biobed and put a comforting hand on Jim's shoulder. They sat there silently and avoiding each other's eyes as Jim tried to suppress the sobs wracking his body.

The tremors stopped and McCoy thought Jim had finally fallen asleep but he had turned his head and was wide-awake. His emotions were stirring just as much as Jim's were but he had to see him through everything before he could think about himself. There will be time later he told himself as he moved to the bedside chair. As a doctor he knew it wasn't good to let wounds fester but as a man who'd nearly lost his best friend neither of them was ready for it.

"I'm here, Jim," he whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A continued 'thanks' to everyone reviewing/following! Sorry this one is a bit shorter but it breaks better where I cut it off...enjoy!

###

Jim woke up in a foul mood. To add to things, Spock had visited him the previous evening and brought him up to speed on some aspects of the repair efforts on his ship. The dry dock engineers were still trying to assess the damage and stabilize the life support systems so that work could begin. It also wasn't helping that the admiralty were due any minute to interrogate him. If he was lucky he'd fall asleep in the middle and it'd be over. He was anxiously crunching on ice, letting the sharp pieces aggravate the sores.

"Jim, you should try to rest before they get here," Uhura watched the number displaying his blood pressure flash yellow.

"I'm tired of resting," he snapped.

She pursed her lips and tried to refocus on the book she'd brought with her.

"I want this over with."

"We all do. If they hadn't of threatened Leonard with insubordination I think he'd be keeping you sedated to avoid them."

"They what? They can't override a medical opinion."

"Well, it's not his that matters. Doctor Boyce is your attending and he approved you fit enough for questioning; they need answers. Starfleet has been thrown into chaos with Marcus's betrayal."

"That bad?"

"It's—"

"Lieutenant," a stern yeoman interrupted from the door.

"Yes?" Uhura arched an eyebrow.

"I must ask you to leave at this time."

"I don't think there's much 'asking' in that statement?"

"Uhura," Jim tried to diffuse the tension, "It'll be okay."

She turned to her friend, "Jim, I have a bad feeling about this."

"So do I, but it's not going to change things. You'd better go find Bones, he's probably about to have an aneurism."

The comms officer reluctantly nodded and gave her captain a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing her things. She gave a nasty sneer to the yeoman as she pushed past him.

The yeoman was unimpressed and simply moved out of the way for the three incoming admirals. Jim recognized the one as Admiral Komack but he didn't know the other two. All three of them had stern faces. They were brought chairs and sat down ready for business. _I bet they don't want to chat about the weather_. Jim didn't even try to sit up straighter for them. He had to conserve as much energy as possible to make it through this. The yeoman took up a position outside of his door as it slid shut.

The woman pulled a recorder from her bag and set it down on the hovering table after activating it.

"Admiral Gretchen Lui," she spoke and the little device chimed.

"Admiral Andrew Calvert," the device chimed again.

"Admiral James Komack," another chime.

The three admirals looked at him. He finally understood, the device was calibrating itself to their voices for the transcribing process.

"Captain James T. Kirk," the recorder chimed in recognition of his voice.

"Begin recording," Calvert ordered.

Komack nodded, "Alright, in light of your condition we will make this as brief as possible. We would like to officially apologize for being hasty but time is of the upmost importance. From this point on you are required to be truthful and any such deviance will result in prosecution for perjury. Do you understand?"

"I do, sirs," he gulped.

Lui took a quick glance at his vitals displayed on the wall but returned her attention to him, "Let's start with your version of the attack on HQ."

Jim noticed that they were staring at his own personal lie detector, but he started giving a factual recount of the events from the Daystrom room to his request for Marcus to reinstate his command.

"Pike admired you," Calvert interrupted, "He meant a great deal to you?"

"Of course, sir, he's the reason I'm in Starfleet."

"And you were angered by his death?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is that why you wanted to go after John Harrison?" Komack asked.

_You don't take responsibility for anything!_

"Yes, sir."

The admirals looked up from their data pads at the quiet revelation.

"We're you emotionally compromised?" Lui took over.

"I wanted _Khan_ to pay for killing Pike and everyone else."

"You didn't answer the question, Kirk."

Jim gritted his teeth, he was not going to be able to bullshit his way out of this. They'd had ample time to question everyone and speculate on his motives.

"I do not believe so."

"You were willing to risk the safety of your entire crew to avenge Pike's death? Doesn't that make you emotionally compromised?"

_You think you're infallible, you think you can't make a mistake._

"Yes, sir."

The admirals nodded, they'd gotten what they wanted. They moved the conversation forwards.

"We don't have an official record of your orders from Admiral Marcus, but we have the transfer paperwork for the torpedoes and testimony from Commander Spock. For what it's worth, you made the right decision to take John Harrison into custody instead of killing him," it was Komack this time.

Jim had known that all along but he had been blinded by his need for revenge, "Thank you, sir."

They continued to dissect every decision he made and he cooperated and gave them every answer. The cocky kid that had gotten them into this mess had died deep in the bowels of his ship.

"We're grateful that we have the transmission recordings from your conversation with Admiral Marcus and we don't need to question the validity of those claims against his character. However this brings us to another question, why did you leave your ship in an emergency situation? As a captain, you have a responsibility to your crew," Calvert looked up from his data pad.

Jim swallowed, he wish he had some water, "I knew the crew would be in better hands with Spock in command. The only tactical option was to take the _Vengeance _from within."

"You were within 500,000 kilometers from Terra, why didn't you wait for aid?" Lui asked sharply.

"Who would you have believed? The head of Starfleet or a 'rogue' captain?" his heart rate and blood pressure spiked, causing the biomonitor to chirp in alarm.

"At ease, Kirk," Komack warned.

Jim took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. He could imagine McCoy's nose pressed into the equivalent screen in the nurse's station cursing.

"I played right into both of their hands."

"Yes, you did."

"I had to do everything I could to protect my crew after what I'd done."

"At the start of things you were willing to risk them all for revenge, why the change of heart?"

"I finally realized what I'd done. My crew had tried to warn me but I didn't listen until it was too late."

"Is this why you decided to sacrifice yourself in the warp core? To make amends?" Komack asked accusingly.

_The choices you make could get yourself and everyone under your command killed._

_Is there anything you would not do for your family?_

"I had to do everything I could to save them even if that meant giving up my life," the panic was starting to bubble deep down.

"Why did you do it yourself, Kirk? Your Chief Engineer was with you. Your crew was there."

"I couldn't ask anyone else. Enough of the crew had already died because I fucked up!"

"Kirk!" Lui snapped.

"Sorry, sir."

"We will allow it just this once given your situation but do not let another slip."

Jim nodded. He could feel the panic starting to squeeze his lungs.

"How many hands were lost?"

"157_."_

_One hundred and fifty seven. _157 people that he was personally responsible for their deaths. He hadn't lost a single person in the year before this clusterfuck and now 157 were gone all at once. This was what everyone had been keeping from him. Why was he the one that survived all this? Why was he the one they saved?

"Now, you were in the warp core when the _Vengeance_ went down?"

"What did it hit?" he ground out through his teeth. He'd been waiting weeks for an answer to this.

"You don't know?" Lui was surprised.

"Sorry, I was busy being dead," he spat out.

"I don't like your tone, Kirk," she eyed him, "It hit downtown."

"Downtown what?"

"San Francisco, Kirk."

"How many people?" his chest was tightening.

"They're still recovering bodies, but it's 40,000 dead and 70,000 injured. It took out a swath of skyscrapers during the middle of a business day."

The edges of his vision started greying. His hospital room suddenly faded away until he was staring at the misaligned matter/antimatter housings. The heat from the radiation was oppressive and he broke out in a sweat. His lungs struggled to bring in oxygen and a shrill beeping was echoing off the chamber walls.

McCoy had been sitting at the nurse's desk the entire time watching Jim's vitals spike. They were already on the high end of the range when the admirals arrived several hours early but they had been steadily increasing for the past twenty minutes before all hell broke loose. Everything began flashing red and he shoved the yeoman guarding the room aside to get in there. The admirals were stunned as Jim lay gasping for air on the biobed.

"Out!" he shouted.

They didn't move fast enough and he shoved one out of the way to reach his patient.

"Doctor McCoy…"

"Out now!" he pointed to the door.

Nurses were pushing their way through as the admirals were leaving.

"BP has tanked, pulse is tachy and weak. O2 sats are down to 79," a nurse relayed the vital signs he could clearly see on the screen. She sealed a mask against the Captain's face.

"Invert him," McCoy ordered as the nurse commanded the biobed to lower the head and raise the foot, letting gravity help push blood to his organs.

"Jim?" he pulled up each eyelid and flashed his penlight.

He quickly loaded a hypospray with a vasopressor and Tri-ox and slammed it Jim's neck. He was going to be pissed about it later but the bastard was about to code.

"C'mon, Jim," he slapped the man's cheek.

It took a few seconds but a weak groan escaped and eyes were moving under their lids.

"That's it, come back to me."

McCoy rubbed his knuckles against Jim's chest and was rewarded with two slivers of blue staring back at him.

"Are you with me?"

Jim blinked slowly and nodded.

"BP's coming back up, 80/50. Sats coming back up to 84."

"I'm sorry, Jim," he rested his hand on Jim's forehead.

He didn't stop Jim as he reached up and pulled the mask off his face, "They told me," he gasped.

"What did they say?"

"157 and 40,000."

McCoy's heart dropped. Jim wasn't ready for that kind of news and this was exactly why. If he knew Jim, and he did, the man was going to feel guilty. He looked up at a nurse who was holding a cup of water with a straw in it. She let the Captain take a few sips before pulling it away from him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because of this."

The head under his hand nodded.

"Really bad."

"Yeah, Jim, it was really bad."

He took the mask from Jim's hand and put it back over his nose and mouth. A lone tear trailed down the side of his face. He ran his warm fingers through Jim's hair until the anxiolytic the nurse had discreetly injected took hold and his eyes fluttered to a close.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm thrilled that everyone seems to be enjoying this so far! As of now I've finished writing ch 13 and I think there's only a little bit more to say after that so hopefully they'll have their peace soon.

###

"How is he, Doctor McCoy?" Spock had stopped the doctor in the hallway.

A bit of stubble scratched his fingers when he rubbed his face, "I wish I had good news, Spock."

"What is wrong?"

"He's been depressed ever since the admirals were here a few days ago and told him the extent of the damage. It doesn't help that they sent the most impersonal communiqué saying that his fitness for command would be 'reevaluated' at the end of his medical leave right after they left."

"That was not unexpected."

"No, but he's frustrated with his body. We're still battling some issues keeping his platelets and RBCs up, the nerve damage is being slow to reverse itself, and of course his digestive system is being 'testy' to say the least."

"Again that was not unexpected."

"Dammit, try to remember that he's not some Vulcan robot!"

"I understand; have you tried seeking professional help?"

"Gee, let me think. Of course I tried that! Dammit man, I _am _a doctor you know! He threw his data pad at the last counselor who tried to enter the room. He's refusing all visitors, including his mother. He tried to have me taken off his case but Boyce saw through his bullshit and had a chat with him."

"Well, that makes things challenging."

"He feels guilty as shit for everything that's happened and for all of the people that died."

"That is illogical, but it does explain why my inbox has suddenly reached capacity with letters to the fallen crewmembers' families awaiting my approval."

"Yeah, I gave him a data pad to keep him occupied."

"I will attempt to talk to him."

"Thanks, Spock. I know this is asking a lot, but could you try and get him to eat? We can't start physical therapy until he's off IV nutrition."

"Yes, Doctor," Spock discreetly gripped his cover tighter under his arm.

The doctor walked away shaking his head as he entered the hospital room. Spock immediately analyzed the room and its occupant. He was reclining against the biobed at 55.3 degrees concentrating intently on the data pad in his lap. His hair was disarrayed from being in bed and there was a bowl of broth cooling on the hovering table. Jim gave him a quick glance and then returned his gaze back to his data pad.

"Jim," Spock greeted.

"I'm not in the mood for visitors, Spock," Jim said without looking up.

"I believe I have news that you will find interesting," he sat down in the visitor's chair.

"Unless it's a way to bring everyone back to life I don't want to hear it."

"It is not that, but it is related."

Jim looked up to see that Spock was in his dress uniform instead of a duty uniform.

"What is it?"

"I have returned from Khan's tribunal. They have sentenced him."

Spock watched critically as Jim's fingers tightened around the data pad, "And? Are you going to make me ask for it?"

"I propose a compromise."

"Spock, I don't want to play games. Just tell me or leave me alone."

"I was unaware that humans consider this a recreational activity."

"Don't do that, you know exactly what I mean."

"Of course, Jim. I propose that I will divulge the desired information if you eat."

Jim was gripping the data pad hard enough to turn his knuckles white; "I'm just going to puke it up later."

"I understand that you have been having digestion issues, but your recovery cannot proceed until you resume eating. If it's your goal to spend the least amount of time here, then it is only logical that you take the steps necessary t—"

"Spock, leave it alone," Jim turned his focus back to the data pad.

"Yes, Captain. Do understand that Doctor McCoy will be most upset if I tell him that I did not complete my task."

"I don't care what he thinks."

"That is most unbecoming of your character."

"Yeah well, I'm sure something had to die in the warp core."

"Jim, are you upset at your survival?"

The man threw his data pad to the floor, "Of course I'm upset. Even you, pointy, would be feeling something if you were in my shoes. Do you know how many people died?"

"Yes I do."

"Tell me then, why was I the one that was saved? I caused this mess in the first place."

Spock hesitated and then replied, "Why did you rescue me on Nibiru?"

"They had friends and family too, Spock. Was it because I'm Captain James Tiberius Kirk, son of George Kirk, the Kelvin baby, the 'Nero Hero'? The news outlets have plastered my photo everywhere."

Spock saw Jim's official Starfleet picture smiling back at him from the data pad that had been tossed to the ground. The screen was frozen on a Terran news outlet with a headline that read 'Famous _Enterprise_ Captain Fighting for Life'. He picked up the device and scanned through the story. While sketchy on specific details, they did have the gist of things correct.

"You are safe from the media while on Starfleet grounds, they will not be able to disturb you if that is what you are concerned about."

"That's not what I'm concerned about. They're completely ignoring the number of people killed to run stories on my past and speculate on my health."

"While frustrating, it is likely that they are focusing on more positive news given the extreme loss of life."

"I'm not their beacon of hope. I'm not their hero."

_I'm a terrible Captain and I don't deserve this._

"Jim, your death was extremely upsetting. I do not regret the decisions we made to save your life. We can debate this for a lengthy period of time but we will not accomplish anything until someone yields."

"Are you going to give in?"

"No, Captain."

"I didn't think so. Now what is this news? I'm not up for an evening full of lectures, I get enough of that from Bones and the nurses."

"I believe I proposed a compromise," an eyebrow rose.

"I believe I did not agree," Jim sassed back.

"Very well, I will leave you then," he collected his cover and fluidly rose out of the chair.

He was almost to the door when Jim called out, "Wait, Spock."

The Vulcan pivoted around; Jim was pulling the hovering table over his lap. A shaky hand grasped the spoon awkwardly. A few drops of broth spilled but most of it made it into Jim's mouth.

"May I propose an adjustment to your technique?"

"Now you're criticizing how I eat?"

"I am merely suggesting an improvement," Spock gestured to the straw in the cup of water.

Jim realized what Spock was doing and nodded. The straw was moved from the cup to the bowl and the table was pushed closer to him. It was a lot easier to hold the straw to his lips than move the spoon back and forth, and before long he'd eaten half of the broth.

"Nice move," he had as much as his stomach could tolerate and pushed the table away.

"I will let Doctor McCoy know that this arrangement is more effective."

"So what's the news? I'm assuming its shop talk since you're in your dress uniform."

"Correct," Spock reclaimed his seat, "Khan's tribunal concluded with his sentencing today."

"So it's over?"

"Yes, Jim, it is over. He is to be put back in cryostasis. They deemed him too dangerous to transfer to a penal colony and the Federation does not execute criminals so this was the most logical option."

"Was it your idea?"

"I did suggest it."

"So they're going to keep him around to wake him up when the time is convenient again?"

"That is a risk, but he and his crewmembers are to be interred in a secure storage facility. All record of him will be redacted."

"They're sweeping it under the rug?"

"Yes."

It really was the best possible outcome out of everything. He would never be a problem again if Starfleet could keep him hidden in their deepest closets. Weeks later the news outlets were still covering the crash of the _Vengeance _so he knew that 'John Harrison' was declared dead. No one would believe that anyone could've survived that nightmare.

"I want to see it," Jim said softly.

"See what, Jim?"

"The wreckage. It's still on the news programs, but I want to see it with my own eyes."

This did not surprise Spock, "I will consult with Doctor McCoy to see if anything can be arranged."

After leaving for a few minutes, presumably to find the doctor, Spock returned with a hoverchair and the man himself.

"I think this is a ridiculous idea, but I know I'm not going to get any peace until it happens," McCoy grumbled.

"Bones, I need to see it."

"I know, kid. Spock could you give us a minute?"

Spock hesitated but left after Jim nodded, "What is it, Bones?"

"I know you and Spock are all buddy-buddy now, but I assumed you would want some privacy while I remove your catheter."

"Shit, Bones, don't even mention it. It's stupid that with all this medical technology that's still what they're using."

"Everyone already knows about it. You've been bedridden for weeks," McCoy snapped on a pair of gloves.

"At least tell me the nurse who put it in was hot," Jim's face was flushing red as the head of the biobed was lowered.

"Well, if you like 6-2 brunettes with a very muscular build then yeah _he_ was."

"God, please tell me it wasn't you."

"Sorry kid, we weren't terribly concerned with your sexual prospects while trying to save your life. Jim, I'm a doctor, it's not like you have anything I haven't seen before and it's not like you have anything you haven't shown all of San Francisco either."

"Bones…" Jim whined.

McCoy pulled the blankets back and pulled the hospital gown up, "You should be thankful. This means you have clearance to get out of bed now only on the condition that you're going to the head and call for a nurse."

Jim was too busy listening to McCoy to realize that McCoy was done already and everything had been put back in its place. The biotrash was disposed of and the head of his biobed started going back up.

"Okay, we're going to do this nice and slow," McCoy placed an arm behind Jim and pulled him upright the rest of the way.

It felt weird having his legs swung over the edge of the biobed. They felt heavy with all of the blood suddenly rushing downwards for the first time in weeks. He could see McCoy watching the biomonitor.

"Dizziness or nausea?"

_It was now or never_.

"Good to go," he gripped the edge of the bed.

"Let me do all of the work for now, you'll probably smash up that pretty face if you try to hold yourself up."

McCoy bent down and pulled a pair of bright green socks on his feet, "Wow, those are loud."

"You should thank Uhura for those, she's taken up knitting recently."

He really was grateful for the socks when his feet finally touched the floor. The chill was successfully dampened through the warm wool. However his socks did nothing the stop the draft of cool air reaching a place it shouldn't have. McCoy wrapped his arms around his neck and lifted him to a standing position. His legs had atrophied considerably and protested the weight they were holding.

"Why does my hip hurt?" he was panting at the exertion already.

"That was from the IO line, it went into your bone. We injected some osteoblasts in there to close it up quicker but it'll be achy for a bit as the hole gets plugged."

How could he forget that? Those treatments made dying of radiation poisoning look easy. He stood there as an awkward mess of limbs while McCoy maneuvered him into the hoverchair.

"I know you've lost a lot of weight, but damn you need to lay off the burgers and beer."

"Does this mean I get pants now?"

"No."

The IV bags and containers were moved to the stand on the chair and a blanket was spread out over his lap before he was pushed into the hallway where Spock was waiting for them.

"It is pleasing to see you out of bed, Jim."

He nodded at his first officer; he was already exhausted. It turned out that there was a patient terrace on his floor so it was a quick trip until he was outside in the brisk San Francisco air. A gust of the bay air made him miss the warming feature on his biobed. According to McCoy, being cold all the time was something he had to look forward to until his blood counts stabilized. He pointed to the corner that overlooked the downtown area and McCoy dutifully obeyed.

From the twelfth floor there was no way anyone could miss the broken starship in the middle of the Financial District. The _Vengeance_ had left a deep gouge in the city as she plowed her way from Alcatraz, through the Warf, to end up in the middle of the skyscrapers. Countless iconic landmarks had been literally wiped off the map.

Jim stared in horror at the sight of the wreck and the flurry of support vehicles hovering over it. He wouldn't have believed that things were this bad unless he saw them with his own two eyes. So far nearly 40,000 people were confirmed dead, and who knew how many more were still entombed in the wreckage or gone all together. The loss was staggering.

"Jim?" he heard McCoy from behind him.

"I'm okay," he stammered.

He could have prevented all of this if he would've killed Khan when he had the chance. Things never would've gotten this far. At the very least he should've died with everyone else. _Had they all been afraid at the end?_

Both Spock and McCoy could see the wheels in Jim's head turning.

"I think it's time to head back in," McCoy was already pulling the chair away from the rail.

"No," Jim grabbed onto the rail.

"Jim—"

"I'm not ready to leave yet."

"I think it is wise to heed the doctor's advice," Spock moved to block Jim's view.

He had to squint from the sunlight to look up at the Vulcan knowing he wasn't going to win this round he snapped at his babysitters, "Fine, take me back."

Jim saw the concerned look McCoy and Spock shared with each other. He spent the trip back to his room in silence and only nodded after he was settled back into bed. Spock sat down in the chair and McCoy hovered at the IV control panel.

Spock spoke first, "Jim, there is no shame in discussing—"

"Not now, Spock," he rolled onto his side away from his friends.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I can't thank all of you enough for replying and alerting this story, it truly makes my day to get those emails! Just as a warning, things won't get better for a while...it's going to be rough. Though the good news is that I have a short, old-fashioned, whump story ready to go once this is finished!

###

The cantankerous doctor was so preoccupied with his patient's chart that he didn't notice that the biobed, where said patient was supposed to be, was empty with the sheets folded neatly at the end of the bed.

"I see that today's breakfast wasn't quite up to par for your refined palate," he said without looking up.

After not hearing the usual snarky reply he finally looked up.

"Damn it, Jim!" McCoy threw up his hands in exasperation.

After a quick word with the charge nurse, McCoy found himself crossing the terrace on the breezy morning to the lone figure at the end. _That bastard is going to be the death of me_. The man didn't even have the strength to hold himself upright and was relying on the headrest to support his head. Now that Jim was out in the sunlight, McCoy took his first real look at his best friend. His normally tanned skin was ghostly pale and his defined musculature seemed to have shrunk a few sizes. The only color coming from the man was from a maroon colored knit cap pulled down across his ears. Even then it seemed to accentuate his paleness.

"You'd better have a damn good excuse," McCoy's eyes quickly scanned the biomonitor display on the back of the hoverchair.

"Hello to you too, Bones," Jim said without averting his gaze on the city's broken skyline.

"You couldn't go three days following my instructions? Jim, when I cleared you to get out of bed I made it quite clear that it was only to the head and back. This is the fourth time I've found you out here. Which one of the nurses did you sweet talk into letting you out here this time?"

"I know," was all he said.

"Jim, what's wrong?" McCoy grasped Jim's wrist, feeling a strong pulse underneath his fingers.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit. We both know you're lying through your teeth right now. You're going to have to talk about it. It doesn't have to be me if that's what you want."

"I know, just not now."

There was an awkward silence while Jim continued to gaze at the destruction and McCoy fumbled for what to say next, "I see Uhura's moved on to hats now."

"They match the socks," the tips of maroon colored socks were peaking out from under the blanket on his lap.

"C'mon, you need your rest before your PT starts this afternoon. Hopefully they'll wear you out enough to stop these excursions. If you take your pain pills now you can have another dose as soon as you're done."

"Bones…"

"Don't 'Bones' me," he was already pushing Jim back inside. "That was the agreement, you lose the IV if you take your pills and hypos without complaint. Though right now I'd love nothing more to jab you with something sharp."

Jim tried not to roll his eyes but he'd been given the exact same lecture after being caught on the terrace the other three times. This time it was his mother that had stopped by before breakfast and had abetted her son in his escape before she left for her duty station downtown. She felt guilty for not being there sooner and he was using it against her. Some part of him knew that he should feel ashamed for manipulating his own mother that way, but he couldn't pick it out in the swirl of emotions he'd been trapped in lately.

"Jim? Did you hear a word I just said?" they were back in his room already.

"What? Yeah, Bones I heard it."

Jim saw how tired his friend looked; he really needed to treat him better. The good doctor had been drowning in his own swirl of emotions. It wasn't unusual for McCoy to throw barbs at him but his comments had been downright sharp lately. He alternated between extreme 'mother hen mode', as he dubbed it, and 'I would stab you if I hadn't of worked so hard in the first place'.

McCoy tossed a duffle on the bed, "Scotty sent these down from your quarters."

"Scotty? What's he been up to?"

"He refuses to leave the ship," the doctor had already opened the bag and was digging out clothes.

A pair of his old sweat pants was tossed in his lap. It was sad that getting pants was the highlight of his week. It only took a fake 'Jim Kirk' smile to a cute nurse to get a second gown to wear backwards to stop the updraft from the rear, but these were golden.

"No shorts?" he was going to push his luck.

"Not until you can stand up long enough to take a piss by yourself," McCoy had already swiped the pants from him and threaded his feet through the legs.

It was the small victories that he was marking his recovery in, such as being able to push oneself out of a hoverchair and pull a pair of pants up. The pants hung considerably looser than he last remembered but McCoy was already working on tightening the drawstring. He was even able to turn on his feet and sit down on the biobed without help, another victory.

It was relieving to feel something soft and comforting under his derrière, "Much better."

"Well, we couldn't expose another floor of nurses to your ass. The PT nurses are there to whip you back into shape not laugh uncontrollably. Start undoing those snaps," McCoy was digging in the duffle for a shirt.

Jim obeyed and started on the multitude of snaps keeping the two hospital gowns together. It was amazing that after all this time they still hadn't invented anything better. The fabric fell to his waist and he was taken aback at the sight of the pink line starting from just below his ribs and disappearing under his pants. He hesitantly brought his hand to the scar; the newly healed skin felt foreign under his fingertips.

"There was a lot of internal damage to fix," McCoy watched Jim trace the fully healed incision.

Dermal regenerators weren't perfect; he was going to have a permanent reminder of what had happened to him.

"I can do a few more rounds of some dermal regen, it might help a little more," McCoy had the shirt ready.

He had enough of looking at the scar and raised his hands, signaling McCoy that he was more than ready for the shirt. A wave of relief passed over him when the material was pulled down and he couldn't see it anymore.

McCoy was all too happy to hide the remnants of his handiwork. It had been his fingers that wielded the laser scalpel that sliced through the skin and muscle. He could remember the blood quickly saturating every surgical sponge he could get his hands on and how easily the damaged tissues tore under his hands. It was all he could do to keep the bile gurgling ferociously in his stomach from exiting.

"Bones?" the image was shaken out of his head.

"Yeah?" he realized he hadn't let go of the hem of the t-shirt and quickly pulled his hands back.

"Did you do this?" Jim was subconsciously rubbing the scar.

"I'm sorry, Jim."

Jim nodded, the tension was steadily increasing but neither one of them were in any condition to say what needed to be said. He could only imagine what the doctor was feeling and he hadn't even had the decency to thank him for what he did. How could he thank him for something he didn't want?

McCoy remained silent as he held out a hand with the pain pills and popped a straw in a nutritional supplement that was still sitting untouched from breakfast. He wanted to grab the warm fingers that brushed against his palm as Jim grabbed the pills. The weeks that Jim had been awake had been brutal; he never would've guessed that he would've been resented this much for saving his life.

The doctor swallowed hard, "Get some rest before PT. If your afternoon blood work looks okay I'll get your mom to bring you something better for dinner when she comes back by this evening."

Jim obediently swung his legs onto the bed and pulled the blanket up to his chest. He pulled the cap off his head and ran his fingers through his dirty hair. A swish of the door alerted him to the fact that his friend had left him. These moments of peace and quiet were few and far between, someone from the _Enterprise_ was always visiting or medical personnel were shuffling in and out of his room. He let out a deep sigh he'd been holding in and sunk further into the pillow. His intentions were to lay quietly while he had some space but the excursion had worn him out and his body had other plans.

###

"Sir, it's time."

"Thank you, ensign."

The young lady flittered away with the flash of a sympathetic smile. He inhaled deeply; hoping something in the air would give him strength. McCoy and the others had already taken their positions leaving him in the anteroom alone. The last four members of his crew were coming home. They were the last of the bodies to be recovered from space after they had been ripped from their ship while at warp. _Everyone made it home_. His throat welled up and it seemed like the stiff fabric of his dress greys were going to suffocate him. By all rights he should still be at the hospital.

Starfleet had hastily organized a memorial service to honor them and the other crewmembers that had been killed in action upon learning that the last of the _Enterprise's_ crew had been recovered. McCoy didn't even try to fight her captain when he demanded that he attend. Instead the doctor had his physical therapist outfit him with a skintight suit with wires and electrodes built in that would help his motor nerves function for a few hours. The doctor had made it clear that this was only a temporary fix and there would be hell to pay later. There was a tingle along his spine as he activated the suit from the small control screen on his wrist. He pulled his dress jacket sleeve down and pushed himself out of the hoverchair.

The same ensign was waiting for him with his cover when he stepped out of the anteroom. He tried to shake her and the hat off but she insisted, and he found himself looking at his reflection in a pane of glass to straighten the stupid hat.

"This way, Captain," her outstretched hand led the way.

His steps were slow and calculated but he eventually made it down the hallway that led to the hanger. He'd only just progressed to walking without any help in his PT sessions. He stopped at the side doorway and took in the sight before him. Chairs containing family and crewmembers took up most of the space, leaving a wide aisle down the middle of the hanger. On one end was a raised platform and lectern and at the other was a shuttle. He'd been briefed on the ceremony while he had been waiting and took his spot at the front of the aisle. The wires in the suit pulled against his skin when he pulled his arms behind his back. He could see his senior officers in the front row watching him critically as he stood in place.

Starfleet's senior command filed in after him and took their positions on the platform. He tried not to think about it, but he could feel the hundreds of faces staring at him. A bead of sweat was rolling down his neck into the collar of this uniform. He had to be perfect for them.

The cargo door of the shuttle slid open and every Starfleet member stood at attention. Jim could feel his muscles protest his own sharp movement. From his vantage point he could see everything going on as an honor guard boarded the shuttle and emerged moments later with a Federation flag draped casket in their hands. All Starfleet personnel made a sharp turn to face the aisle. The casket team made their way solemnly to the front where they halted in front of Jim. He gave the casket a salute and the team carried it to one of the biers behind him.

The same honor was shown to the other three caskets that were brought before him and placed on the remaining biers. He took three measured steps to the open seat in the front row next to his first officer. They were ordered to sit and the service began.

It was the usual pomp and circumstance that surrounded a ceremony like this. The admirals spoke about service, duty, loss, and progress forwards. Jim could see McCoy trying to get a good look at him from two seats away. As rank would have it, Spock and Scotty provided a buffer between him and the hovering doctor. He was secretly glad that McCoy had absolutely refused him speaking citing that it would be bad press if the Captain passed out mid speech. His role so far had been exhausting for his weakened body.

The speeches continued on and his mind started wondering. He couldn't help but think that he should've been in one of those caskets. _Why did I get to live? It's not fair._ The fact was that they were dead and he was alive and it made him angry that he'd been spared.

The last admiral finished his speech and the first honor guard surrounded the casket, this was his cue. He gathered himself and stood up, taking precise steps to team. He stood at attention while the flag was folded and pressed into his hands. The fabric felt rough under his fingertips. It took two steps to reach the mother who was trying her best to keep from sobbing. Bending down was painful and his muscles were protesting, but he forced the pain out of his mind and presented the flag to the woman. Her hands were trembling over his as he thanked her for her daughter's service and pulled back. She whispered a 'thank you' to him as he pushed off his knee to stand up.

His whole body was screaming with pain and exhaustion after presenting the fourth flag. He wasn't going to be able to stand back up. The father who had just accepted the flag held out his hand to help. Jim hesitated.

"Don't be ashamed to accept help, son," the deep voice was firm and reassuring.

He knew he was breaking protocol; the hand was warm and strong as it lifted him.

"Thank you," Jim whispered into the man's ear before returning to his seat.

McCoy and the other senior officers could see the sweat pouring off their Captain's pale face. Spock was able to discreetly hold out an arm to slow Jim's descent into his seat. The ceremony ended shortly thereafter and McCoy jumped out of his seat as soon as he was allowed. His med-kit was with the hoverchair so he had to rely on his hands to assess his patient. The rest of the crew had gathered around them to give them privacy from prying eyes.

"Jim?" McCoy had his fingers pressed into Jim's carotid artery.

"Get me out of here, Bones," Jim wheezed.

"Dammit, Jim," McCoy threaded his arm under Jim's and motioned for Spock to take the other side.

Together they got their Captain lying down on a sofa in the anteroom while the rest of the crewmembers hovered close by. Uhura dodged the wand to McCoy's tricorder to unzip Jim's dress jacket. He sucked in a deep breath as soon as he was free from the stiff fabric.

"Three hours my ass, the battery pack is already dead," McCoy was examining a small device hooked to the inside of Jim's pants. "You alright?"

"Peachy."

Chekov handed his Captain a glass of water, "Small sips," he instructed Jim.

" 'm good now," Jim pushed away the cup after drinking half of the glass.

"This was too much too soon," the doctor commented.

"Doctor McCoy, it would be wise to return him to the hospital."

"Give the man a moment to breathe, not everyone has your freakishly large lung volume."

Uhura's gentle hand silenced any reply the Vulcan was about to make.

"Take me back," Jim pushed himself upright and swung his feet to the ground.

"Easy, Jim," McCoy held out a steadying hand.

It only took two groans and a hiss to get Jim seated in the hoverchair. The group was headed towards the exit when Sulu stopped them.

"We've got a problem," the helmsman announced.

"For God's sake, what is it now?" McCoy threw up his hands.

"We can't go out that way, the press is still hanging around in the hangar."

"I'll go get the vehicle and meet ya 'round back," Scotty threw over his shoulder as he headed out of the room.

"I hope they got a nice new photo to splash all over the headlines," Jim was angry.

No one said anything; they all knew that their Captain was not okay. The group was headed out when Chekov ran back to grab the cover that had been thrown onto a side table.

"Can't forget the hat," the man in the hoverchair deadpanned.

Instead of following the hallway straight, the group turned off before reaching the hanger and followed a long hallway to a less used exit. Scotty was already waiting with the hovervan idling at the door. Jim was ushered inside and the hoverchair was stowed before the rest of the crew piled in. Scotty tinted the windows and pulled the vehicle onto the roadway. Jim caught sight of one of the caskets being loaded into a hearse to be taken for a private burial. _I should be in there._

McCoy's mouth tightened at the pained expression on his friend's face.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: A continued 'thanks' to everyone still reading and following along! Things are going to be rough from here on out...

###

"Okay, Uhura and Spock are going to take you home but your mom is gonna be staying with you," McCoy instructed while double checking the myriad of pill bottles on the hovering table.

"Bones, I know this already. I was there for that conversation."

Jim just rolled his eyes as the doctor rechecked everything again. Saying that he was itching to leave the hospital was an understatement. The memorial service had lit a fire deep down in his gut and he couldn't escape fast enough. He had irritated McCoy and Boyce so much that they yielded after four days and arranged for him to finish his physical therapy as an outpatient.

"I'll meet you downstairs in the clinic every other day after you're done with PT to check things over. You're blood counts aren't quite where I'd like to see them, but your immune system seems to be functioning enough that you won't die if someone sneezes on you. Remember that you can't eat any raw foods for now, including apples."

"We've been through this already," he eyed the door.

"And we'll go through this until I know you're not going to do something stupid," McCoy was packing the pill bottles into a bag.

"Gee, you say the nicest things," Jim threw back.

"Jim, you don't understand…"

"Bones, I get it. I'm not made of glass. I can survive staying at my apartment and making it to PT. I can piss and shit by myself, I can eat solid food, and I can walk short distances by myself. What else do I need to do?"

Anger flared in McCoy's gut but he bit back the sharp retort he wanted to throw back. Things were so tense between the two of them that he didn't even volunteer to stay with Jim at his apartment. He'd even picked up extra shifts to have a valid excuse to avoid the man. Maybe some space between the two of them was the best thing. Every time McCoy looked at Jim he saw resentment and every time Jim looked at McCoy he saw guilt.

Jim saw the McCoy grip the bag unnecessarily tight, "I'm sorry, I just want to go home."

"Spock and Uhura will be up here shortly. They had to park at the service entrance."

"The media?"

"Yeah," the doctor was finally content with everything and packed the bag of pills in Jim's duffle.

The Captain wearily closed his eyes. Things with the press had increased exponentially in the following days after the memorial service. As predicted a picture of him pale and sweaty while bent down presenting a flag had been plastered over every Standard speaking news program. Everyone was eager to catch another glimpse of the Captain who had saved the planet twice after his own father died in an equally heroic fashion. None of the journalists had made it into the hospital but security had been doubled nonetheless. Starfleet had been working around the clock to control them but it just made things crazier.

"Your apartment is on Starfleet property so they won't be allowed on the grounds. They'll have a driver sent everyday to take you to PT."

"Just great."

"I'm sorry this is happening, Jim."

"Me too. I just want to be left alone. I haven't had more than thirty minutes to myself in the month and a half I've been here. It'll be nice not having everyone know my vitals when they visit."

Again McCoy stuffed down the snarky reply he wanted to make, Spock and Uhura had shown up at the most opportune moment.

"We are ready, Jim," Spock announced.

"I've got all of your meds organized for the week already. Be sure you take them on time," McCoy handed Uhura the duffle.

"I got it, Bones," Jim was eager to leave.

"Alright, kid, I'll see you in two days."

Jim nodded and eased himself into the hoverchair. Both Spock and Uhura saw the strained interaction between the two friends but decided not to comment on it. They knew things were tense. McCoy turned his back to the group and busied himself with turning off the biomonitors.

"Let's go," Jim commanded.

A few nurses stopped them in the hallway to say their goodbyes and slip their comm signals into the pocket of his sweat jacket. He flashed them a smile and a promise to have them over to play nurse soon.

"You're ridiculous," Uhura teased.

The man knew the smile he flashed her didn't make it to his eyes, but he was grateful she was trying to bring back some sense of normalcy. It didn't take long to make it to the service entrance where several trucks were parked dropping off deliveries. Spock's sleek hovercar was nestled out of sight in between two of them and they managed to shuffle Jim into the back seat with only one hiss of pain.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" the communications officer grimaced as Jim's hip hit the harness buckle.

"I believe the Captain will remain in satisfactory condition as he convalesces at his residence," Spock fired up the engine.

"See, even Spock says so," Jim waved off Uhura as she tried to buckle his harness.

She pursed her lips and took the front passenger seat. A look back in the mirror showed Jim slumping against the window. The windows were blacked out and Spock pulled the vehicle away from the hospital. They all sighed in relief at the lack of reporters camped out at the edge of the grounds. However there was a contingent of reports parked outside of the gates to the main Starfleet campus. Spock commed the gate personnel while they were en route and informed them of their impending arrival so that they were ushered through the gates without a fuss.

Jim wanted to weep with joy upon crossing the threshold into his apartment. He was grateful that he'd gone on a cleaning binge after Pike's death so that he had a clean home to return to, though his mom had probably dusted a bit. Spock and Uhura took everything in; they had never been to the Captain's Terran apartment.

"Do you play chess, Jim?" Spock had spotted the antique chess set on the coffee table.

"Uh, yeah," Jim's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the fact his officers were studying his home.

"I would like to challenge you to a game once you feel recovered enough."

"Sure thing, Spock," he shuffled to his couch and let the soft cushions envelop him.

"Can I get you anything?" Uhura was pulling the bag of pills out of the duffle.

"This is perfect," Jim closed his eyes.

"Your mom went shopping so your kitchen is completely stocked with McCoy approved foods. He isn't too sure if your food allergies are still an issue but he said to be cautious for now."

"Thank you, Uhura."

Jim kept his eyes closed and waited for the hiss of his door to signal that he'd been left alone but it never came. He cracked an eye open to see that Spock and Uhura had made themselves comfortable in the armchairs.

"Uh, guys?"

"Your mother has requested our presence to dine with you."

It only took Jim a moment to read between the lines, "In other words I'm not to be left alone?"

"Correct, Jim."

He groaned inwardly. All he wanted was an hour to himself. This was frustrating beyond belief. _I don't deserve all of this attention._

"We will occupy ourselves so that you can rest until your mother returns."

The Captain couldn't stop the roll of his eyes and swung his feet onto the couch. Coincidently the control device for the holovision was within his reach and he tabbed on the system. A story about him was beginning and he quickly tabbed channels until he found an old vid that was playing. Uhura and Spock looked up at the mention of Jim's name coming from the program but relaxed when the channel changed.

The clink-clink of Uhura's knitting needles was rhythmic and it wasn't long before soft snores were emanating from the sofa. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up in time to see Spock pull the Captain's shoes off and cover him with a blanket. She arched her eyebrows at him. He bent down to her level and planted a delicate kiss on her lips before returning to his chair.

###

The calendar application on his data pad was chirping incessantly. Like he could forget that Jim's appointment was in five minutes. He pulled back from the viewer and blinked away the exhaustion; nightmares had been getting the best of him lately. Their separation had been a blessing and a curse at the same time. It had been a relief to not have to see those blue eyes resenting him but then it had only made him twitchier to get his hands on the man to check his vitals to make sure he was still alive. Winona and his physical therapist had sent him updates but it wasn't the same as having the reassurance of a steady pulse beneath his fingers.

Surprisingly, Jim was sitting patiently in the waiting area when he arrived at the clinic to collect the man. His academy sweats and t-shirt seemed to swallow his emaciated frame but it would take more than a few weeks to gain back the lost mass. He looked better all things considering, but there were still dark circles under his eyes and sweat dotting his forehead.

"Jim?" McCoy called softly, breaking the younger man's focus on the floor.

"Hey, Bones," Jim made no movement to stand up.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," the man slowly pushed himself out of the chair.

"Feeling alright?" McCoy watched the pained movements.

"Yeah, I'm just a bit wiped out from PT."

"Kicking your ass?"

"Lets just get this over with so I can go home," Jim was not in a chatting mood.

"No need to be an asshole today, Jim."

McCoy led the way to a small exam room and motioned for Jim to sit on the biobed. He heard a small sigh as the man pulled himself onto the table. The biomonitors sprang to life and McCoy took a quick glance at them before turning his attention to his patient.

"How have you been feeling the past few days?"

"The same," Jim was hunched over on the exam table.

McCoy eyed him suspiciously.

"Just tired, Bones."

"How are you sleeping?"

"The same."

"Still having nightmares?"

McCoy took Jim's lack of response as a 'yes' and made a mental note to add a mild sedative to his meds.

"Any digestion issues?" he'd already been informed of some problems from his mother.

Jim glared at the doctor knowing that he'd been told on, "The night meds make me sick."

"Just nausea or are you throwing up too?"

"You already know, just get on with it."

Jim's foul mood was not helping McCoy's demeanor, "I want to hear it from you, Jim. If there's a problem I need to know."

Jim rolled his eyes, "Fine, it makes me puke."

"Was that so hard? I think I know what's causing it so I'll get you something different before you leave. Now, is there anything else?"

"No."

"Well, I see you're in a great mood today. Hold out your arm."

Jim rolled his eyes before obeying with his command. McCoy saw him turn his head away as he set a blood collection device against his arm. He felt Jim flinched as he activated the device and blood filled the chamber.

"All done, Jim," he finished the blood draw and withdrew the device. "Take your shirt off and lay down while I go take this to the lab."

McCoy didn't stay to wait for a response and quickly left the room. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding in Jim's presence and submitted the blood sample to the small lab department.

For a second time Jim had followed his instructions without the usual complaint and fighting. He activated the biobed scanner and waited patiently for the green light to finish sweeping over his friend's body. The scanner chimed when it was complete and Jim moved to sit up.

McCoy put a gentle hand on the bare shoulder, "Hang on, I talked with the head of plastic surgery and she gave me a new pulse program for dermal regen to try and take care of the scar."

"It's fine, Bones," Jim was making a conscious effort not to look down at the scar traveling down his stomach.

"It'll take twenty minutes, just relax for a bit."

He easily pushed Jim back down to the biobed and unfolded a paper medical sheet over his lap.

"Pull your pants down a bit so the beam can get the whole thing."

Again, Jim didn't complain and shimmied his pants down while keeping the sheet over himself. McCoy pulled the sheet down just enough to expose the last bit of the scar and applied an anti-scarring gel to the pink line of skin. Jim was staring at the ceiling so he activated the program without any commentary.

"Sit tight and rest while this cycles through the program. I'm gonna head to the pharmacy to get your new meds," he informed Jim.

The man continued to stare at the ceiling above him so McCoy left with a huff. He wanted nothing more than to slam a hypo into Jim's neck. It was bad enough that he still hadn't processed his own feelings and Jim's foul mood was compounding the problem. He gritted his teeth as he picked up the bag of pills from the pharmacy.

"Okay, Jim, you're good to go," he boomed walking into the exam room.

Jim jerked awake from dozing at his gruff entrance. The man was silent as he redressed and hopped off the exam table.

"Your liver enzymes are up, which could be due to all of the medications you're on. Your blood sugar is also low so make sure you eat when you get home. You'll probably feel better after that. I want you to stop the Midodrine and take this Benzadrine instead at night. It should be easier on the stomach. I also got you some Compazine for the nausea if you need it. There's also a mild sedative in there to help you go back to sleep if you wake up in the middle of the night," the bag of pills rattled when McCoy handed it to Jim. "I'll send the changes to your mom too so she can make sure you switch the right one."

"I can take care of myself," Jim growled.

A wave of anger flared up, "Fine then, cross the wrong meds and see what happens. Your driver is probably waiting outside. Come back in two days."

Without a look back he was out of the room, leaving Jim alone.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So I've finally finished the story, it's no longer a WIP! I have to say that after finishing the last chapter that I immensely proud of what it's turned into, and I want thank all of you for coming along for the ride!

###

Jim stared at the blue eyes haunting him in the mirror. They were the eyes of someone who shouldn't be alive. He knew it was the survivor's guilt and PTSD talking but he couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't deserve to be the one brought back. He was drowning in a swirl of sadness, guilt, and anger.

"Jim? Are you alright in there, sweetie?" his mom's voice carried through the closed bathroom door.

"I'm good, Ma," he said as convincingly as he could.

There was hesitation before she replied, "Okay, don't forget that you have your clinic appointment after PT this afternoon."

"Yes ma'am."

He heard footsteps walkaway but then come back to the door, "Oh, I almost forgot. I made you some pancakes; they're on the counter with your morning pills. I got called downtown early so you'll have to eat by yourself this morning."

"I can feed myself you know?" he couldn't stop the sass.

"Oh really? Well, you're not going to be giving me grandchildren anytime soon looking like a skeleton. Make sure you shave too, you're scaring the neighbors."

"Bye, Ma."

"Alright, I'll be home for dinner. Have a good day, sweetie."

"You too," he sighed with relief when his apartment door hissed shut.

He looked back into the mirror, his four day beard was probably scaring people. Besides, if he was going through with his plans this afternoon then had had to be clean-shaven anyways. He turned on the tap and began filling the sink with warm water.

Stepping out of the bathroom with his hair neatly combed and face clean-shaven he passed the kitchen looking at his breakfast and meds waiting for him. He didn't have time to stop and eat if he wanted to catch the 1000 shuttle to the docks where his ship was currently under repair. _You are going to get hell for this_.

He could already hear Bones' lecturing him but he ignored it and left his apartment. It was obvious that his body still wasn't up to prolonged activity and he had to nap after his PT sessions; this was going to be an ordeal.

The taxi he called was already waiting for him at the building's entrance. He reasoned that he had a few hours before anyone noticed what he was doing and by then he would be well without of anyone's reach. The reptilian cabbie took in his frail looking appearance but a flash of his wallet quelled any doubts the man had.

"Can you blackout the windows?" Jim asked from the backseat.

He saw the cabbie look at him from the rearview mirror, but acquiesced after a moment of hesitation.

"Are you the one the cameras are here for?"

"Yeah, I promise to pay extra for any troubles. I just need to get to the Academy hangar."

It never bothered him before that the Academy grounds were separate from the main grounds but now that he had to get to the other one without being seen made it annoying. He could've taken the bus that ran between the two but the possibility of running into someone he knew was too high. The 1000 orbital dock shuttle was the least likely to be occupied by any of his senior staff so that was the safest option that would give him the most time up there.

The taxicab pulled out of the main gates without any hassle from the press camped out there. Jim was grateful and let out a breath he'd been holding, part one down. What he was doing was risky. First of all he wasn't physically up for the activity and secondly he was on medical leave and wasn't even allowed on his ship. Technically, it was Acting Captain Spock's ship until is fitness for command could be reevaluated at the end of his medical leave. Starfleet Command had reviewed all of the data from the events with Marcus and Khan and had decided that he could be reinstated as the _Enterprise's _captain if he could pass their physical and psychological evaluations. It wasn't ideal, but there was no way he was in any shape to be leading a crew now, and Spock was one of the few he trusted with them and his ship.

"We're here, sir," the cabbie turned around.

He hadn't even noticed that they'd arrived at the Academy's main gate.

"Uh, thank you," he swiped his card and gave the man a generous tip.

"I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Me too," Jim pulled himself out of the cab.

A surge of fear overtook him as he placed his hand on the ID scanner at the pedestrian gate. It beeped and the gate opened. The guard eyed him questioningly but said nothing to stop him. The grounds were surprisingly deserted to be a weekday morning during the summer session. Classes must still be in session.

Jim checked his chronometer; he had enough time to make it to the hanger at a slower pace than he anticipated. This was good considering he was already tired. He zipped his jacket up against the bay breeze and headed off across the campus. Classes let out while he was crossing the main quad so he kept his head down to avoid any of the cadets' gazes. It was unlikely that anyone knew who he was in person, but for sure they'd seen his face plastered all over the news. Some of his crewmembers had business on Academy grounds so it was best if he didn't run into them either.

He made it to the hanger and onto the waiting shuttle without incident. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as the shuttle took off; he was in the clear for now. The brightness of the Earth dimmed and he found himself in the darkness of space. It was only a twenty-minute ride to the dry docks situated not far from Star Base 1. The pilot flicked on the safety harness sign so he knew they were close.

Jim quickly moved over to the window seat to catch a view of his ship as they approached. The _Enterprise_ was sitting motionless in the caged facility of the orbital dry dock like a wounded tiger caught on a safari. The shuttle approached from the bow so he got a good look at the dark scorch marks and holes dotting the saucer section. They banked to the left as the pilot maneuvered them down her starboard side; it had taken the most damage. There was a large chunk of the saucer missing from the back end. He could see force fields glowing over the secondary hull breaches. The starboard nacelle was almost completely black from the missing armored plating, exposing critical warp components to the vacuum of space. The shuttle swung around to the aft part of the caged structure and pulled into a docking bay. He would have to board the _Enterprise_ from the dock access.

The ship was as badly damaged as her Captain. She too had been dead and had been brought back to life. It was a sad sight to see her in such a condition; he assumed that it was what everyone else felt when they looked at him.

"Docking complete," the shuttle pilot announced over the intercom.

The door swung open and he let the four other passengers disembark before unlatching his harness and exiting. He'd never been on the dry dock facility before, but it wasn't hard to follow the signs to a crew access arm to his ship.

###

The crew access arm deposited him on deck 8 by the main recreation room. The panels along the wall had been removed to provide easy access to the miles of circuitry running around the ship; it was disturbing to see her guts exposed so blatantly. He made his way through the atrium to a turbolift to go up to his quarters on deck 5. The bottle of whiskey he had in his quarters was surprisingly still intact in its hiding spot in his dresser. His fingers couldn't uncap it fast enough. After three large gulps of the fiery liquid he had the courage to make his way to the engineering decks. He stashed the bottle into his jacket before stepping into the turbolift.

Crewmembers and technicians paid him no attention as he stepped off the dirty white floor of the primary hull and onto the non-slip deck plating in the engineering section. Welding teams were everywhere repairing the intricate piping system that sent water, steam, and coolant throughout the ship. He crossed the catwalks through the massive coolant tanks to the warp reactor. The towering structure was still awe-inspiring despite none of its usual pulsing of lights and gentle humming.

From where he was standing he could just make out the edge of the door that led to main reactor room. His brain wanted him to move forwards but the gnawing anxiety in his gut was keeping his feet firmly planted in their spot. Less than twenty yards away was the place where he died. The place where he had done everything he could for his family.

He could feel his throat welling up but after pull from the bottle in his jacket he forced his feet to take him closer to the door. Nothing had changed since he was last there. The door was shut but it wasn't locked given that the core was powered down and had been decontaminated. There was no danger behind the glass this time. He tabbed opened the door but didn't cross the threshold; he stood there staring at the corner where he spent his last moments.

_He opened his eyes to see the matter/antimatter housings above him. The blue glow from the radiation was blinding. His ship was safe. _

_He tried to shield his eyes from the brightness but his limbs were weighted down with lead. There was so much pain coursing through his body. Everything hurt. It was a struggle to breathe. Somewhere deep down he summoned enough energy to pull himself to the entryway and through the access tunnel to the anteroom. His dying lungs protested the exertion. He could feel a weight settle into his chest, pushing on his lungs and heart. Organs were shutting down one by one. There wasn't much time left; he was scared._

"_Cap'n!" his chief engineer pounded on the thick glass, grabbing his attention._

"_Get Spock," he wheezed. _

_There were so many people he wanted to say goodbye too, especially Bones, but he had only minutes left. Spock would remain composed and give him the strength to exit with as much dignity as he could muster. Bones would turn him into a blubbering idiot; he couldn't to that to him. He needed to make sure that the ship was okay. _

_A flash of blue running towards him reminded him that he needed to close the tunnel hatch so they could decontaminate the room to retrieve his body. _

_Spock crouched down to his level, "How's our ship?"_

"_Out of danger."_

_For the first time in his life, he felt like he did the right thing, "Good."_

"_You saved the crew."_

_It was all worth it._

"_You used what he wanted against him. That's a nice move."_

"_It's what you would have done."_

_Breathing was getting harder and harder as fluid filled his lungs. It wouldn't be long now. There was a block of ice settling in his stomach just thinking about what was going to happen when the lights went off. Would there be a heaven or was he going to blink out of existence? _

"_And this is what you would've done, it's only logical. I'm scared, Spock…help me not be…how do you choose not to feel?"_

_It was getting harder to focus but he could see the Vulcan crying. Now he had seen everything._

"_I do not know, right now I am failing."_

_There was so much that they were supposed to accomplish with their friendship and their ship._

"_I want you to know why I couldn't let you die…why I went back for you."_

"_Because you are my friend."_

_In the end the Vulcan understood. It was a hard lesson that they had to learn. His eyesight was fading and his chest was stilling. This was it. His lungs refused to pull in oxygen, only further cascading his demise. He pressed his hand to the glass, one final gesture. It would've been nice to say goodbye to Bones, Scotty, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, Carol, and the rest of his family._

_A sense of warmth blossomed in his chest and all of pain ebbed away with it. He was at peace when the darkness overtook him._

Jim blinked back into the present; the flashback had left him gasping for air. He was one of the few people who knew what it felt like to die. It was what 157 of his family members had felt. It wasn't their fault, it was his, and he was the one that ordered them to their deaths. It was cruel that he was the one brought back. He couldn't stop the onslaught of tears wracking his body.

"Oi, laddie! What are ye doin' here?" a thick Scottish brogue was yelling at him.

He didn't even try to stop the tears streaming down his face when Scotty pulled him into a crushing hug,

"Easy now, Jim. Yer all right, laddie," the engineer lowered them to ground.

"I died," he sobbed into the dirty coveralls.

"Don't ye ever do anythin' like that again. That core was my responsibility."

"I couldn't let you do it."

"Jim, closing your eyes was the single hardest thing I've ever had to do," Scotty could feel the moisture leeching through his coveralls.

"I died and I still couldn't save them. It's my fault they're dead. Why didn't Bones bring them back too?" the man sobbed.

"You did good, don't let anybody tell ye any different."

"I played right into their hands. I could've prevented everything if I had listened."

"Oh, Jim," he cradled the younger man's head into his shoulder.

"I couldn't let you do it, I had to do it myself."

"I know, laddie, I know."

He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but it was long enough for the whiskey he'd gulped down to catch up with his brain. They must've been there a while because Scotty had to pull him to his feet and then steady him.

"Let's get you to you quarters, I'll comm Doctor McCoy and let him know where ye are."

_Bones. _

"Shit."

"He is a right mad person now. I got an angry comm to call him if anyone found ye."

The trip to his quarters was a blur. Jim was a lot woozier than he anticipated; normally he could drink double that before getting the slightest bit buzzed. It didn't take a genius to realize that drinking that much on the meds he was on and without having eaten in hours was not a smart idea.

"Just sit tight, laddie," Scotty pulled the beeping communicator from his pocket and left him alone on his bed.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: If you wanted some resolution, this isn't the chapter you're looking for. After this there are 5 more chapters, so plenty of time to draw things out! Again, thank you to everyone who's read this and reviewed/followed/alerted this. Without your great feedback this would be such a fruitless endeavor!

###

McCoy was absolutely furious. He was going to strangle Jim as soon as he got his hands around his scrawny neck. It was all he could do to restrain himself from smashing the communicator in his hands into a million pieces.

"The transporter is still offline, yer gonna have to take a shuttle," Scotty's voice filtered out of the comm unit.

"Keep him in his quarters. I'm leaving SFM now," he closed the comm hard enough to crack the plastic cover.

The angry doctor stormed his way across SFM grounds to the ferry that would take him back across the bay to the Academy hanger. He sat down in the seat with such force that the people around him quickly moved away. The ferry zoomed across the bay, depositing him at the Academy pier; it was only a short walk to the hanger from there.

He flipped open his comm and called up Spock's signal, "Spock?" he growled when the Vulcan answered.

"From your tone I am going to assume that Jim has been located."

"That idiot is on the ship."

"He is on the _Enterprise_?"

"You bet your green ass he is. Scotty just commed me saying that he found the bastard and took him to his quarters. I'm on my way up there now."

"Can I be of any assistance?"

"Can you let Winona and the others know he's been found?"

"Certainly, is there anything else?"

"I'll let you know if he's still alive after I'm through with him," McCoy stomped into the hanger.

"Doctor, I believe you took an oath to do no harm—"

"Spock," Uhura could be heard interjecting.

"My apologies, Doctor McCoy."

"I knew that bastard would do something like this! I knew it!"

"Keep me apprised of the situation. We will assist in any way necessary."

"Alright, Spock. I'll be in touch once I see how he is."

"Good luck, Doctor McCoy."

"I'm gonna need it," he slapped the comm shut.

Fate was on his side as a shuttle to the dry dock was departing in minutes. He hurried across the hanger to the shuttle, making it inside just as the door was closing. The back row was completely unoccupied so he was able to sit alone and stew.

He had a gut feeling that Jim was going to finally snap from the moment he'd woken up that morning. The man had been giving off bad vibes during his last few clinic appointments. When confronted, his physical therapist had admitted that she thought that he had seemed 'off' during his last several sessions but he kept pushing himself as usual so she dismissed it. Jim had only been five minutes late to his PT appointment when he commed the other senior officers to start searching for their captain. He had to give it to the man, no one had seen him or could find him. Scotty had commed him just as he was about to pull out his hair, letting him know that he'd found Jim.

McCoy had been stewing so intently that he completely spaced out on the journey to the dry dock. He was thinking about how satisfying hypoing Jim would be that there was no one else on the shuttle when he looked up again.

"Doctor McCoy," Scotty was waiting for him as soon as he disembarked from the shuttle.

"Thank you for finding him," he followed Scotty across the dry dock facility to the ship's access arm.

"It was by chance, I found the laddie down by the reactor."

"He was where?" they stepped onto the ship.

"Aye, I found him a right mess at the reactor door. He was right sloshed too."

"He's been drinking?"

"Quite a bit."

"Dammit, Jim! He's still having issues with his liver functions."

The two officers arrived at the door to Jim's quarters; Scotty grabbed the doctor's arm before he could reach the keypad.

"Go easy on him, there is a fierce storming brewin' in that mind of his. All that needs to be let out."

McCoy didn't bother to reply as he punched the code to open the door. The sight that greeted him was truly frightening.

The great Captain James T. Kirk had been reduced to a quivering mess. Tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably. Jim turned to look at him standing in the doorway and took two pulls from the bottle in his shaking hands.

"You better have one hell of an explanation, Jim," McCoy ground out.

"So my jailer has come to take me back to prison?" Jim slurred, his blue eyes unfocused and glazed over.

Jim flinched as McCoy approached him.

"Hand me the bottle," he held his hand out.

"No."

"Jim."

"No," he took another swig out of spite.

"Jim, you shouldn't be drinking with all the meds you're on. You could be doing irreparable damage to your liver," the kid looked terrible.

"Good. I don't want it anyways."

McCoy lunged to take the bottle from his hand, but Jim was surprisingly fast and heaved the bottle against the wall where it shattered violently.

"There, go get it now."

The doctor was trying very hard to control his rage, "I would strangle you if I hadn't of worked so damn hard to save your sorry ass."

"Do it, I should be dead anyways," Jim growled.

"Is that what you want? To be dead?" McCoy inched closer.

"I deserve to die. All of those people are dead because of me!"

"Jim—"

"No! I was stupid and arrogant."

"Of course ya are, you're young."

"Pike was right, I wasn't ready. I led 157 people to their deaths on this ship, and God knows how many tens of thousands of people in San Francisco. All because I didn't listen…and then…and then I finally did something to make it right…to save everyone else. They didn't deserve to die."

"Jim—"

"Shut up and let me finish," Jim wavered. "I made it right and then you," he pointed to McCoy, "you ruined everything."

"I'm not sorry for saving you."

"Why me? Why, after everything I'd done? I nearly got everyone killed."

"Are you done now?" McCoy had enough.

"Tell me, did you even think about saving anyone else?"

"Don't you dare go down this road, Jim," McCoy's eyes tightened.

"Did you, Doctor McCoy? Why was my life more valuable?"

"You're drunk and I'm not going to listen to this. You're better than this."

"Is that why I'm alive and everyone else is dead? Because I'm better? Being friends with you sucks."

"Don't say anything you're gonna regret now."

"What are you going to do?"

The doctor studied his options; they were limited, "I'm not going to take this." He pounced at Jim and pulled him into his arms. The man struggled in his embrace before exhausting his limited energy reserves and fell limp. McCoy could feel a growing wetness on his neck as Jim broke down sobbing. He pulled the kid in tighter.

"So many people, Bones. Why was I the one brought back?" he sobbed into his best friend's shoulder.

McCoy didn't reply; Jim wasn't going to like the answer. What he did made cheating on the Kobayashi Maru look like child's play. He had broken every ethical standard that he had devoted his life to upholding to break the rules of nature and bring a man back from death. It was a simple answer why he brought Jim back; he was his best friend.

Jim's sobs quieted and soon he was left hiccupping. McCoy didn't even flinch when one of the hiccups turned into something more and he vomited all over the both of them.

"Jesus, kid," the doctor pulled Jim up by his arms and shuffled him into the bathroom.

He got Jim over the toilet just in time for another wave of vomiting to take hold over him.

"Let it out," he rubbed soothing circles on Jim's back.

Jim was bringing up nothing more than bile at this point having not eaten in who knows how long. He looked down at his hospital whites and stripped down to his black undershirt, dropping the top in the shower to deal with later. Jim was left bare chested when he pulled the soiled shirt over his head. Jim flushed the toilet and rested his head against the cold porcelain.

"Done?"

The sick man nodded wearily. McCoy helped him to stand and kept him steady against the sink as he rinsed out his mouth and washed his face. Jim rose up to look into the mirror and before McCoy could react, he sent his fist into the glass.

"Dammit, Jim!" he grabbed Jim's glass embedded hand into his own.

Shards of the glass were sticking up at all angles across his knuckles. His thinned blood was flowing freely from the wounds. The doctor scrambled to grab a towel to put pressure on his hand without driving the glass further into the wounds.

"We need to get to Sickbay. Your blood counts were still low two days ago."

Jim simply nodded and allowed himself to be led to Sickbay. They stepped off the turbolift and McCoy quickly glanced around to see what was still in working order. Half of the bay was in the process of being dismantled in preparation for a refit but there were a couple of biobeds that appeared to be operational; he heaved Jim onto the closest one.

"Lay back, Jim. I'll fix this is no time," McCoy eased Jim down.

"'m sorry, Bones," he slurred.

"I know, just rest."

The kid didn't even struggle as the exhaustion and drunkenness pulled him under.

###

His return to awareness was not a gentle rise in consciousness; instead it was a violent yank from peace accompanied by a fierce pounding in his head. The familiar ceiling of his ship's Sickbay greeted him when he pried his eyes open. Events were fuzzy but he clearly remembered making it onboard the _Enterprise_. It was surprisingly quiet in the Sickbay; there was no hum of activity or murmur of chatter that was usually present.

"You with me, Jim?" McCoy's face came into view over him.

"Yeah," he answered softly.

He looked down to take stock of himself. There was an annoying cannula blowing oxygen up his nostrils, he would try to take it off when McCoy wasn't looking. It was hard to focus on the hangover he had because of a bone deep ache radiating through the hand that he clearly remembered sending through his bathroom mirror.

"Is your hand hurting?" McCoy must've seen him grimace trying to flex his fingers.

"Yeah, and m' head."

"Alright, hang on a sec," he felt a pull of an IV line in the back of his uninjured hand.

The pain meds hit his brain and sent relief to the throbbing limb, "Better."

"You did a number to your hand, you fractured three metacarpals in addition to slicing it to ribbons."

Only his fingers were sticking out of the rigid plastic that enclosed his hand.

"Sorry about the cast, I can't seem to find the osteoregenerators anywhere. Actually I couldn't find a lot of things I needed, but I'll close the breaks when we get home."

Jim took that as his cue that they were leaving, but a gentle hand kept him pinned to the biobed.

"You've got about another hour until your fluids and this unit finishes and your blood counts come back up," McCoy pointed to a bag of blood products infusing into his IV. "The liver regen should finish about the same time too."

He looked down to see a blue beam sweeping back and forth just under his ribs. Binge drinking on his cocktail of medications was bound to have consequences.

"I'm sorry, Bones."

"I know ya are, kid. Just rest for a while and then we'll go home."

When the hour was up McCoy silently pulled the cannula off his face and removed the IV line from his hand. The doctor had held out an old t-shirt from his quarters and waited for him to pull it over his head without offering to help once. It was unusual for the man to be so quiet and it was unnerving. He knew he had said some hurtful things to his best friend during his drunken rant. McCoy didn't even offer a steadying hand as he slipped down off the biobed.

"Scotty has a shuttle on standby for us," McCoy powered down the biobed.

Jim nodded, stretching the aches of lying down for a while out of his muscles, "How long was I out?"

"Uh, about six hours," the doctor walked in step with Jim into the turbolift.

"Wow."

"Yeah, that was all you, I couldn't give you any sedatives with all the alcohol in your system," McCoy led the way back to the shuttle bay on the dry dock.

True to Scotty's word, a shuttle and pilot were waiting just for them. Jim fell into the closest seat he could get to. McCoy noticeably set his duffle bag down in the seat next to Jim and took the one on the other side, keeping the seat between the two of them. Jim's heart sank when the doctor relaxed into the headrest and closed his eyes. The man used to be deathly afraid of shuttles and here he was sleeping in one. It was a testament to how exhausted the man really was.

McCoy was out cold and snoring before the door was sealed. Jim leaned against the window and watched his ship fade into the distance. The shuttle flew over the glittering west coast without dropping in altitude. Jim rose up and looked back at the city lights blinking along the coast. The shuttle continued over the flattened Midwest and finally started dropping as it approached the east coast. The sun was starting to rise as the shuttle began its final descent into Atlanta, Georgia.

The shuttle landed with a thud and McCoy jerked awake in his seat, stretching out his neck.

"Are we there?" he asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"We're in Atlanta, Bones."

McCoy nodded gathering his duffle.

"Want to explain why?" Jim wanted answers.

"You need some time to recover, Jim. You won't do that if we're still in San Francisco. Between your own stubborn self and the media, I thought this would be the best place. You need to rest and I need to rest."

Jim looked at his best friend. It was the first time he noticed the dark circles under the hazel eyes. He had been so wrapped up in his own mind that he failed to see what McCoy had been going through. He had been a shitty friend lately.

The weight of everything seemed to settle on his shoulders, "I'm tired, Bones."

"Me too, Jim, me too," McCoy followed Jim out of the shuttle.

After stopping by the clinic at Emory University Hospital to get the bones in his hand healed, the two of them pulled up to an expansive classic Southern house. It was just like in the old holovids with white washed columns and rocking chairs in the front. Jim leaned on the hovercar's door and took everything in.

"Seriously, Bones? This is where you grew up?"

"That house has been in my family for centuries. It's been rebuilt a few times, but it's still the same original design."

"Are we going to be using an outhouse?"

"I promise it's modern on the inside," McCoy was already walking up to the door.

Jim was left at the vehicle as the great red door swung open and McCoy was engulfed in a crushing hug from a petite woman with snow-white hair.

"Hey, momma," McCoy muttered into the woman's neck.

"I missed you so much, Leonard. It's good to have you home again," the woman pulled back to survey the man in her arms. "You look tired."

Jim didn't want to intrude on their reunion but Mrs. McCoy was dragging her son to him. It was when she got up close that he noticed that she had the same inquisitive hazel eyes as her son.

"You must be Jim," she enveloped him into an equally warm hug.

"Yes ma'am."

"Ugh, don't call me 'ma'am', boy. You're practically family, call me 'Ellie'."

"Alright, Ellie."

"Well, lets not dawdle, you both look like you're going to pass out here in the yard," she grabbed Jim's hand and led him into the house.

The inside of the house was equally as impressive as the outside. It was a beautiful mix of antique furniture and modern technology. The front hallway led all the way to the back of the house with several rooms branching off. He never would've guessed that McCoy would've grown up in such a place despite being Southern through and through. It was cliché enough to be comical. McCoy headed up the grand staircase with a wave to the two of them.

"Let's get you settled, Jim. Leonard told me everything and a Mr. Spock had your things and medications transported here along with wishes to recover swiftly. You might also want to comm your mother and let her know you've arrived safely."

"Yes, ma'am," he followed Ellie dutifully into a guest room that branched off the main hallway.

"I've got you set up in here. It should be easier without all the stairs. There's a bathroom just there and fresh towels are already laid out for you, dear."

Jim looked at the big four-poster bed longingly. Its mountain of soft bedding was beckoning him, "Thank you so much, Ellie. This is too much."

"Such nonsense. From what I've been told it's about time you get the rest you need. You're medications are already laid out on the nightstand there. Sleep as long as you want and then we'll work on that skinny frame of yours," Ellie patted his cheek before closing the door behind her.

The bed's invitation was not to be wasted, and he quickly located his pajamas in the dresser and readied himself for bed. He could hear the mixture of sadness and relief in his mother's voice over the comm, but there was also a sense of understanding from her and he was grateful for that. It was barely the middle of the morning there in Atlanta, but he felt like he could sleep for days. He dry swallowed the pile of pills with a grimace and climbed under the covers. The comfort of the bed and his own exhaustion pulled him under in seconds.


	10. Chapter 10

###

McCoy could've slept for days but the distinct suspicion that someone was watching him brought him out of his deep sleep. He peeped an eye open wondering who was disturbing his much needed rest.

"Daddy!" bright hazel eyes and bouncing curls greeted him.

Instantly he was awake, "Come'ere sweet pea."

He lifted the covers and the little girl climbed into the bed. She instantly wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his neck.

"I missed you so much. Nana said I shouldn't bother you, but I had to see you!"

"I love you so much," he pulled the girl closer to him.

"I love you more, daddy! I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too, Joanna."

"Joanna Elizabeth McCoy," a voice rose from the stairs.

"Uh oh," the girl gasped. "Hide me, daddy."

McCoy grinned and pulled the covers up and over his daughter's head. He'd just finished smoothing out the blankets when his mother walked in looking cross.

"Joanna is up here isn't she?" Ellie eyed the suspicious lump under the blankets.

"I haven't seen her," McCoy lied convincingly.

There was a soft giggle from the blankets.

"Uh huh, well if you happen to see her tell her that she's not getting dessert. I told her not to wake you."

"That's not fair!" the little girl popped out of the blankets.

Ellie tried to look mean but it wasn't working, "Well then, young lady, you should've listened to me."

"I guess I can share some of mine with you," McCoy pulled the girl down causing her to giggle.

"Very well you two," Ellie started leaving.

"Momma?" McCoy called out.

"Yes, dear?"

"Is Jim up?"

"He's sleeping like a rock. I haven't heard anything out of him all day."

"No nightmares?"

"Not a peep," Ellie smiled as she closed the door.

"Uncle Jim is here?" Joanna caught on that her favorite uncle was in the house.

"Yeah, sweet pea, but you can't wake him up. He's still very sick."

"He's not better yet?" she laid her head on her father's chest.

"Not yet. He was very sick; it's going to take a while for him to feel better."

"I want to see him!"

"When he wakes up, Joanna."

"But, daddy—"

"No buts, Jim needs to rest. You don't feel like playing when you are sick do you?"

"No…" the girl huffed.

Joanna was easily deflected with questions about school and the trip to the zoo with her mother the other day. The two of them chatted up a storm until their hungry stomachs made themselves known.

"Are you hungry, daddy?" Joanna giggled after a really loud gurgle from McCoy's stomach.

"I feel like I could eat a little girl," he started tickling the child.

"Daddy, stop! Nana made dumplings!" she writhed under her father's tickling.

"Dumplings? Does that mean we have to go downstairs?"

"Come on," Joanna had grabbed his hand and was trying to pull him out of bed.

McCoy acted like a dead weight causing Joanna to get beside him and try to push him over the edge of the bed.

"Daddy, I'm hungry!" the little girl collapsed at the effort trying to roll her father.

"I guess I can get up," he finally allowed Joanna to pull him upright. "You go downstairs and help Nana set the table and I'll be down there as soon as I change out of my pajamas."

"Okay," Joanna scrambled off the bed and down the stairs.

McCoy sat on the edge of the bed; he was still exhausted. The past nine hours of sleep did nothing to rejuvenate him. Still he had to get on with things so he pulled himself upright and plodded to the bathroom across the hall. His little girl was waiting so he quickly combed his hair after changing out of his sleep pants and t-shirt.

A delicious aroma of a home cooked dinner wafted its way up the stairs and he couldn't get down them fast enough. He had a sandwich at some point on the ship while Jim was out cold, but it had been awhile since he last ate and the thought of his mother's cooking was making his mouth water. Joanna was waiting patiently at the table in the kitchen when he made it down. He sat down next to her as his mother set a steaming bowl of chicken and dumplings in front of him. The recipe was almost as old as the house itself having been passed down for generations. It was the McCoy family cure-all; guaranteed to heal any physical or emotional ailment.

"I can't remember the last time you made dumplings, momma," McCoy was digging into his bowl with gusto.

"She makes them all the time," Joanna slurped from her own bowl.

"Aren't you special," he stole a dumpling from the girl's bowl only to have one of his stolen in retaliation.

"All right you two," Ellie chimed in.

Two bowls apiece later, McCoy and his daughter had convinced Ellie to go ahead warm up the cobbler she had made earlier. Joanna was happily eating the rest of her dad's ice cream from his lap when she threw down her spoon and scrambled to the door.

"Uncle Jim!"

Jim only had seconds to brace himself before the little girl launched herself onto him. He stumbled a bit before regaining his balance with an arm full of Joanna McCoy.

"Joanna," her father scolded her quickly.

"I got her," Jim assured as he held onto the squirming child.

McCoy watched carefully as Jim grimaced sitting down at the table with a lap full of his daughter. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes and that his hair was still tousled from sleep.

"Did you sleep well?" Ellie asked, setting a bowl in front of him.

"I did, that bed is amazing," he said in between small bites.

"How do you feel, Jim?" McCoy watched the amount of food being consumed closely.

"Tired, but better. My hand kinda aches."

"Did you take your pain meds?"

"If they were in that pile then I did," Jim didn't want to have this conversation.

McCoy could see the flash of irritation flare in Jim's eyes and he backed off the topic.

"Are you all better, Uncle Jim?" Joanna grabbed her forgotten ice cream.

"Much better now that you are here, Miss Joanna," he flashed her a dazzling smile.

It wasn't surprising that Joanna had Jim wrapped around her little fingers. She offered him ice cream from her spoon and he took it without a single complaint. When Jim was sick McCoy would have to all but shove food down his throat, but one look from his daughter and he was literally eating out of her hands.

"This was great, Ellie," Jim pushed his half eaten bowl away from him.

"Jim, you should try and eat more—" McCoy knew that Jim wasn't going to regain any of his lost mass by eating like a bird.

"Hush, Leonard. Let him eat what he wants. He'll eat more when he feels like it."

Jim flushed red at the attention being paid to his eating habits.

"Jim, dear, I can leave some out for you if you feel like eating more later."

"Thank you."

"Feel free to help yourself to anything in the house. I know stomachs can be a bit touchy when you're not feeling great."

Jim nodded and pulled Joanna closer to him. McCoy helped clean the table as Jim and Joanna moved to the living room. Joanna had curled up under Jim's arm on the sofa while he was reading to her when McCoy took a seat in the armchair. Ellie joined them after finishing in the kitchen, and everyone sat around listening to Jim read on about adventures between a frog and a toad.

None of them were sure when they dozed off but quiet voices from the hallway caused them to stir. Joanna rose up off of her Uncle Jim and rubbed sleepily at her eyes.

"Joanna dear, your mother is here to take you home," Ellie stood in the doorway.

McCoy felt a flash of pride when his daughter started fussing about going home with his ex-wife. He could see her with her nose turned up from the hallway, refusing to be in the same room with him.

"I want to stay here with daddy and Uncle Jim," the little girl whined.

"You can come see us tomorrow," Jim looked at her squarely in the eyes. "I promise."

"Uncle Jim…"

"It's okay Joanna, you can have all the Uncle Jim you want tomorrow after his doctor's appointment in the morning," McCoy picked his daughter up from the sofa.

She started to whine but a quick kiss to her forehead silenced any complaint, she was too tired to protest. He carried her into the hallway to his ex-wife.

"Jocelyn," he greeted coolly.

"Leonard."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite, sweet pea," he handed his daughter over to her mother's arms.

"Nite-nite, daddy. Nite-nite, Uncle Jim," she had already laid her head down on Jocelyn's shoulder.

"Good night, Miss Joanna. I will see you tomorrow," Jim replied from the sofa.

"I love you, sweet pea."

"I love you more, daddy," Joanna replied sleepily.

Jocelyn left with Joanna without another word to McCoy. It was uncomfortable for the both of them, but Joanna absolutely adored Ellie and spent quite a bit of time with her despite the divorce. The great red door was shut and the locks engaged for the night.

"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Jim pulled himself off the sofa.

"Sleep as much as you want, dear," Ellie smiled.

"You've got an appointment at Emory tomorrow, Jim."

"Bones, I'm sick and tired of always going to the doctors. What could they possibly want now?"

"Jim, just because you skipped out on the clinic at SFM doesn't mean you're through with them. You still need to be monitored and your medications adjusted accordingly. Your PT sent over her plan so that you can finish it here."

"No, I'm not going," anger flared in Jim's eyes.

"Jim, why don't you get a good night's rest and see if you feel like going in the morning. I'll make you breakfast," Ellie stepped in to diffuse the growing tension.

Jim wanted to continue his planned tirade but McCoy's mother had clearly put an end to anything he was going to say. He quickly shut his mouth and bid her a good night before retreating into his bedroom.

"Let it go, Leonard," his mother interjected as his mouth was opening.

"Mother…"

"Don't 'mother' me. Your normal pushing isn't going to work here. It's only going to make things worse for the both of you. Don't think I don't know how either of you feel right now. You can speak your peace only when he's good and ready to listen to it."

He started to say something but the glare he was given made him rethink things.

"Now, upstairs. Get some sleep and try again in the morning."

"Yes ma'am," it was amazing that as a grown man his mother still had the power to send him to his room.

###

Jim awoke with a start in the darkened room. He lay there panting in the sweat soaked sheets as he looked around to see that he was in Georgia instead of the _Enterprise's _warp core. The chronometer on the nightstand was blinking 0457. His convalescence was really messing with his sleeping patterns and the nightmares weren't helping either. The rest of the house was silent but he was wide-awake; there was no going back to sleep.

He shivered as his bare feet landed on the hardwood floors. The house was surprisingly cold but then again he was constantly cold these days. He shrugged on a sweat jacket lying in the armchair and padded softly to the kitchen. There was a kettle on the stove but using it would wake up Ellie and McCoy so he settled for the replicator to producing him a hot tea. He took a seat at the counter with his hands wrapped around the mug trying to draw its warmth into his fingers.

It wasn't fair to McCoy the way he'd been treating his best friend. The man was doing everything for him and all he could do was hate him. He was the only one who was supposed to break the rules. The fact that he was the only one out of the quarter of his crew that had been brought back to life made him angry and any flicker of gratefulness was quickly extinguished. What made him so special?

"Jim, dear, is everything alright?" Ellie appeared in front of him in her robe. The snow-white hair she kept pinned in a tight bun flowed across her shoulders.

He jumped in surprise, "Um, yeah I'm good. I didn't wake you did I?"

"I didn't mean to startle you and no, I always get up at five. Can I make you some tea?" she eyed the mug in his hands.

"No ma'am," he showed her the nearly full cup.

"Are you hungry? I wasn't going to make breakfast until later, but I don't mind fixing something now."

Jim grimaced at the thought of eating.

"Well, you'll have to eat something later. I can make you some oatmeal, it'll be easy on your stomach," she was filling the kettle and getting an antique French press ready.

"You really don't have to go through all of this, Ellie."

"Nonsense, dear. I think you've deserved to be taken care of."

_Did I?_

"Yes you do," she must've seen the expression on his face. "In addition to what Leonard told me, I do watch the news. I know what happened on your ship and what happened in California was devastating, but things could've been a great deal worse. Imagine what would've happened if you hadn't of stopped Harrison and that Admiral; we would be at war with the Klingons. The loss of life from this would be nothing compared to war."

"The needs of the many," Jim mumbled under his breath.

"Enough of this, there is plenty of time to talk later. You're here to rest. I promised Leonard and your mother that I would take care of you."

She was right, if they had gone to war with the Klingons their entire way of life would change.

"Would you like some coffee?" she offered pouring her own cup.

"I don't think I'm allowed."

"Well, a half of a cup probably won't hurt and what Leonard doesn't know won't hurt him," Ellie was already pouring a second cup.

"Are you sure you're his mother?" he reached greedily for the coffee; he hadn't had any since he'd died.

"He gets his great personality from his father," Ellie winked.

"What do I get from my father?" McCoy walked in rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Can't sleep either?" Ellie was reaching for another mug.

"Not with all this yapping in the house," he pulled up a seat at the counter, leaving a space between him and Jim.

"I'm sorry, Bones. I—"

"It's alright, I really couldn't sleep anymore having slept during the day yesterday."

McCoy took a long pull from his mug, draining half of it in one gulp.

"Well, since everyone's up, how about I get some breakfast going?"

"I could eat," McCoy finished his first cup and was reaching for the French press when he saw the same dark liquid in Jim's cup. "Coffee huh?"

"Leonard," Ellie warned. "It's not going to hurt him."

Just to prove her point, Ellie took the pot and filled Jim's mug the rest of the way up before filling her son's.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Here's a nice little Thanksgiving treat early since I'll be away for the holiday! I'm thrilled that everyone loved 'Ellie' so much...I almost like her more than Jim and Bones...almost. I imagine this is the chapter you've all been waiting for and I hope you all enjoy it! Only 3 more chapters left after this!

###

"How was his appointment?" Ellie watched her son as he reheated leftovers from dinner.

"PT kicked his ass; I made him take a pain pill."

"I saw him passed out on the couch," she set down the bags of groceries she was carrying. "Anything else?"

"He had some more dermal and liver regen," McCoy sat down with his bowl at the counter.

McCoy knew his mother was studying him; it was unnerving the way she always knew everything. It's like she had been there to see Jim's disappointment when he remained seated at the clinic's waiting room when Jim's name was called. It took everything in him to quell the urge to go into the exam room with him and take control of the appointment, but after the incident on the _Enterprise_ he had decided to give up being Jim's doctor for the time being. It was draining him physically and emotionally. He wasn't giving everything up completely, but he was going to take a backseat in Jim's continuing treatment. Before they had left for Georgia he had sent the clinic Jim's medical records and reviewed everything they did during the check up, but he hadn't laid a single hand on him. It was what they both needed.

"That's all?" Ellie's eyebrow arched suspiciously.

McCoy eyed his mother and continued to pick at his lunch.

"There's no shame in doing what you need to do to take care of yourself."

"How do you know everything?"

"I play Bridge with the receptionist and she sent me a comm."

"I knew she was staring while I was waiting for Jim. She needs to mind her own business."

"Well, if the tension between the two of you wasn't thick enough to cut with a knife maybe people would mind their own business. Besides what do you expect from on old Southern lady?"

"It's that bad?" he was absentmindedly stirring in circles.

"I may be old, but I'm not blind. I know he feels guilty for being the one you saved and I know you feel guilty for doing it."

"Should I have let him die, momma?" there was a flash of the innocent boy that used to run around the house screaming.

"What do you think, Leonard?" Ellie had stopped unpacking the groceries.

"He is my best friend, what did he expect me to do? That bastard didn't even have the decency to say good-bye. I didn't find out until they brought the body bag."

"He will come around. This isn't easy for him either."

McCoy continued to pick at his lunch until he finally gave up and pushed the bowl away from him without a bite taken.

"You know, the tree house is still out there. Why don't you go sit outside for a little while? Jim will probably sleep for a few more hours. I'll call Jocelyn and tell her to bring Joanna tomorrow instead."

"Joanna will be upset for missing some Uncle Jim time."

"I guess you two will have to make it up to her then."

The pangs of guilt he felt for bailing on his daughter were quickly pushed down, and he grabbed a bottle of bourbon he knew his mother had hidden in the cabinets on his way out of the house. He turned around to see her watching him from the window.

The tree house was at the back of the yard in a giant oak with drooping limbs that reached over a small creek. It wasn't fancy or anything nice, it was just a platform nestled in the branches but it had provided countless hours of adventures when he was a child. The ladder nailed into the tree looked a little worse for wear but it supported his weight easily enough as he climbed to the platform. He felt comfortable enough to sit on the edge with his legs hanging over after a few test jumps on the boards.

He'd never been more grateful to inhale the sweet Georgian air after everything he'd been through over the past few months. His life had been barreling forward at full speed ever since he got his orders to ship out after the attack at Starfleet HQ. It was soothing just to stare off into the field behind their property and watch the breeze run through the trees. The gentle current of the creek babbled softly enough to provide the much-needed stillness in his mind.

###

The shock of a cool hand on his forehead pulled him back to awareness. He relaxed into the pillow after seeing that he was on the sofa at McCoy's childhood home. The one nightmare free night was amazing, but it had yet to be achieved again.

"Jim?" Ellie was standing over him.

" 'm okay," his voice was thick with sleep.

"Nightmare?"

The lack of an answer was an answer in of itself.

"You were thrashing. I didn't want you to fall off the sofa and hurt yourself."

He noticed that the sun was going down, "What time is it?"

"Just after seven. Do you feel like eating?"

"Not right now," his stomach was still twisted from the nightmares.

Ellie's lips pursed, but she didn't push. His sore muscles protested the movement to sit up and Ellie ended up having to help him upright.

"Where's Bones?"

"He's out back. I was just about to take him some sandwiches; do you want to take them to him?"

None of the McCoys seemed to be particularly good at subtlety. It was clear that Ellie wanted the two of them to talk things out. Now was as good of a time as any. He couldn't take the tension between the two of them anymore.

"Yes ma'am."

"Great. You take a few minutes to wake up and I'll get everything ready."

After making a quick trip to the bathroom, Ellie sent him out with a bag packed full of food and blankets. This whole set up seemed ridiculous, but if this is what it took to repair things then it had to be. He shouldn't have been so selfish and nearly pushed his best friend to the edge. Despite having a fervent aversion to doctors, it had hurt when McCoy stepped down from being his doctor. The man had been there with him through everything.

The big oak tree was illuminated picturesquely with the sun not having set yet. It was summer so there was another solid hour and a half of sunlight left. He couldn't make out McCoy until he was right up on the tree; the drooping branches had hid the man from sight. McCoy was sitting with his back turned to the yard staring out into the distance. Jim mused that many awesome adventures were had at this tree.

"Permission to come aboard?" Jim heaved the bag higher up on his shoulder.

The boards of the platform creaked as the occupant jumped in surprise. There were the sounds of a scramble before the doctor's head peered over the edge.

"Shit, Jim. Give a guy a heart attack."

"Your mom sent food."

"Jim, you should be inside resting."

Jim couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Can I come up or not?"

"I'll come down to you, I don't want you falling and breaking something."

"Bones," he ground out while grabbing onto the first rung of the ladder. "I'm not going to break."

It was a slow climb up with his weakened muscles, but he made it. He unceremoniously dumped the bag Ellie packed and heaved himself onto the platform. McCoy must've been hungry since he was digging for the food seconds after the bag hit the boards.

"How long have you been out here?" Jim maneuvered to sit over the edge with McCoy.

"Uh, a while," McCoy said with a mouthful of a pimento cheese sandwich.

McCoy had already downed two sandwiches before Jim even made a move to grab the thermos of soup Ellie had packed for him. Ellie had packed enough food to last them a long time; she'd even packed several thermoses of tea for him and coffee for her son. He played with the cap while McCoy worked through sandwich number three.

"Hungry, Bones?" he couldn't remember seeing the good doctor eat that fast before.

He got a raised eyebrow and a questioning look at his own food as a reply. The McCoy stare was guaranteed to make someone feel guilty so he sipped at his own dinner. Truthfully he was hungry, it just never sat well afterwards and that turned him off to the idea of eating.

"It'll get better, Jim," McCoy had found one of his thermoses of coffee.

"I know. 'These things take time'," he rolled his eyes while reciting McCoy's mantra while he had been in the hospital.

"Jim—"

"Bones, I understand. I really do."

The pair hit an awkward silence as they finished their picnic dinner. Jim managed to eat half of the soup while McCoy devoured a slice of leftover cobbler.

"Are you cold?" McCoy broke the silence after eyeing the blankets at the bottom of the bag.

"I'm fine, Bones," he was cold but he wasn't going to say anything.

"I don't want you to catch pneumonia. You're shit immune system won't help you."

"Dammit, Bones. Stop it, just stop it," Jim snapped. "I'm not made of glass, I'm not going to break."

That was the spark needed to ignite everything.

"In case you didn't know, you did break. Jim, you _died_. As in, in a fucking body bag _died. _They only brought you to me so I could do your fucking autopsy," McCoy all but screamed in Jim's face.

"You think I don't know?" anger flashed across blue eyes.

"Jim—"

"No! We both need to let this out. Bones, I know I died. I was there. I remember _everything_. I felt _everything_."

"What do you mean?" McCoy was stunned.

"I mean, that I remember dying. I remember what it was like to have my organs fail one by one and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I remember the pain and the fear. I had never been more scared in my entire life, and then it all went away. It was fucking scary. One minute you're there and the next its blank."

"Why didn't you call me?" hazel eyes were glistening with moisture.

"To watch me die? What could you have done?"

McCoy was silent.

"That's right, nothing. I wasn't going to do that to you. I wasn't going to make you watch me die."

"Jim, I never got to say goodbye. No one told me until you showed up in sickbay in that damn body bag. I hadn't been that heartbroken since Joanna was taken from me."

"I was trying to spare you that."

The drawl in McCoy's voice was becoming more pronounced as the conversation grew more intense. "Well, you sure as hell made it worse. Jim, I may not have been able to do anything, but I deserved to have been there. I thought we were friends."

"That's why I couldn't do it to you," Jim pleaded. "No one deserves to watch their friends die while they're powerless to do anything about it."

"But you had no problems with Spock being there…"

"Yes I called Spock instead of you. I needed to make sure that the ship was okay. I will be sure to make it a point to inform you the next time I'm dying so you can watch me piss and shit myself as I lose control of my muscles," Jim mocked.

This only angered McCoy more, "Don't you dare say that. You have no appreciation for your life and those in it. One day I'm not going to be able to fix it and you really will be dead."

"I knew what I was getting myself into."

"Are you sure? You seemed to have given no thought to hopping across the galaxy to chase Pike's killer and then throwing yourself into a warp core."

Jim was doing his best to control his anger, "Is this what it's really about then?"

"No, Jim, it's not. It's about you throwing yourself at death without a thought to anyone else in your life. Can you even imagine what would've happened to the crew if you didn't come back?"

Jim was silent, he had given this some thought and every iteration ended up with them surviving. Even then he couldn't save everyone.

"They would've survived, Bones. They _did_ survive. I did what I did so that you and everyone else could live."

"At your own expense?"

"You're here aren't you, or would you've rather been incinerated in the atmosphere? Even with everything I still couldn't save everyone. It wasn't enough," he dropped his head to stare at the creek underneath them.

"Don't you start this guilt trip shit too. You made your point quite clearly on the ship the other day and I'm not going to listen to it a second time."

"Bones—"

"No. I'm nipping this shit in the bud now. I'm tired of it. Yes, I know you feel guilty for all those people. No, it wasn't your fault. No, I'm not sorry for saving your sorry ass. Yes, I saved you because you are my friend. Yes, I wish I could've saved more, but I couldn't. I did the best I could, and I'm sorry it wasn't enough for everyone else. Jim, I didn't even know if I could save you. I had never felt so helpless before until I sealed you in that damn cryotube. I knew that _you_ had done more with smaller chances."

Jim was left speechless at the doctor's tirade. This was what he had kept inside him all along. His deep sense of resentment was responsible for letting the guilt fester inside his friend. That had been worse than dying on him.

"You froze me?"

"Yeah, Jim, I froze you. It was the only thing I could think of to stop your tissues from decaying. It freaked me the fuck out every time I saw your face under all the ice."

"I'm sorry…"

"Jim, I sat with you day in and day out, holding your hand so that you wouldn't be alone. I broke every ethical standard I took an oath to uphold when I transfused that plasma into you. I cut into you to keep you alive longer. Do you know what it even felt like to see your heart not beating? To see your brain not functioning? To see your organs tearing under my fingers? I knew I couldn't save everyone else, but I knew everything would be okay if I could save you. I _had_ to save you. And then after everything, you wished you were dead. I went through all of that for nothing."

McCoy wasn't even trying to contain the tears running down his face; it was making moisture well up in his own eyes. He had no right to be mad his friend from pulling a stunt from his own bag of tricks. The rules of life and death were firm, but McCoy had simply ignored them and brought him back. He hadn't even been grateful to be alive.

_No one else was given another chance_. _Make it count._

Jim finally spoke after several moments of silence. "I wish we could have saved them, Bones, but I finally understand. Out of all of those people, I was the only one who had a friend crazy and smart enough to bring me back. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner and I'm not going to waste what you gave me. You deserved better after everything you did."

"Jim, I know you're upset about all of those lives lost. I know you feel guilty; I really understand it. Every time I lose a patient I feel it, like there was always something more I could've done but I know I have to let it go to keep going or the guilt will eat me alive. It's okay to feel this way, but it's not okay to let it consume you. At the end of the day you have to know that you did the best you could."

Jim finally learned the lesson he was meant to during the Kobayashi Maru; it was a lesson McCoy had already learned. There would be unwinnable situations and getting hung up on that wouldn't allow him to move forward. It wasn't about winning; it was about being able to continue in the face of failure. The entire weight of his guilt and resentment melted away off his shoulders.

"Bones," he took his best friend's hand, "I'm glad you saved me."

"You little shit," McCoy pulled him into a fierce hug. "I'll always be here for you, as will the rest of the crew."

"I was so selfish. I'm sorry for everything," his head fit perfectly into McCoy's neck.

"Me too, Jim."

A chilly breeze swept through the trees causing Jim to shiver. McCoy broke the embrace and pulled the blankets over the two of them. They noticed that the stars had come out so they laid down on the boards to gaze at them. The _Enterprise _was somewhere up there waiting for her Captain and her next adventure.

"You'll be back up there soon enough, Jim."

"I know," he gave the hand in his a firm squeeze.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday (those of you in the US...everywhere else I hope you had a good weekend)! Here's just some cute fluff to help wind the story down...two more chapters after this! Thank you to all of you who've continued to follow, alert, and review this story! Nothing makes my day brighter than seeing that someone else is enjoying this saga.

###

"Daddy! Uncle Jim!" a cheery voice pulled the two men from sleep.

The sun was up and filtering through the trees when McCoy tried to rise up but a sharp pain in his back kept him down. He was way too old to be spending nights in his tree house. The heart-to-heart with Jim had been exhausting and they'd fallen asleep outside while staring at the stars. Feeling the brisk summer morning, he quickly looked over to Jim who was already wide-awake.

"You shouldn't have been out here all night, Jim."

"I'm sure you can fix anything I catch," Jim rolled his eyes.

Joanna popped her head over the platform before McCoy could retort, "Daddy! Uncle Jim!"

"Good morning sweet pea."

"What are you doing up so early, Joanna?" Jim shifted so the girl could climb in between the two of them.

"Nana said you're taking me to the aquarium today!"

"She did, did she?" McCoy's eyebrow arched suspiciously.

"Yep, she said that since you cancelled on me yesterday, you were going to make it up to me today."

"We can't disappoint the lady, Bones."

McCoy reached his arms around his daughter and pulled her down to him causing her to shriek with delight, "No we can't."

After getting her fill of attention from her father, Joanna turned to her Uncle Jim and snuggled up close to him, "Do you feel better, Uncle Jim?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, today is going to be fun!"

"We can't go until Jim goes to his PT appointment this morning. He might have to nap a bit before we go to the aquarium."

McCoy saw a flash of disappointment across Jim's face, but it quickly dissipated. It hopefully meant that he finally understood his limitations.

"That's okay, Nana said so. I'm going to help her in the garden until we go. What's PT? Can I go with you?"

"Joanna, I don't think that's a good idea, its like going to the doctor," McCoy pursed his lips.

"It helps me get strong so I can chase after you," Jim pulled his blanket over Joanna. "Oh no, we've lost Joanna!" Jim feigned worry.

"Uncle Jim, I can't breathe!" the blanket whined.

Jim gave the lump under the blanket a few playful pokes before throwing it off the little girl. Her smile was as dazzling as his and her hair was wild with frizz. It was hard to swallow that he almost would've never have seen her again.

"C'mon, let's go see what's for breakfast," Jim pushed himself upright before he got too sentimental.

"Nana made biscuits and gravy."

"Biscuits and gravy? It's like she's trying to fatten me up on purpose."

"You are awfully skinny, Uncle Jim."

"I know, I've been sick for a while," he said with all seriousness.

The brightness emanating from the child seemed to dim a few degrees, "Why are you sick?"

McCoy froze packing up their supplies from the impromptu camping trip.

Jim pulled Joanna into his lap and rested his chin on her head, "Well, there were these really bad guys and they did a lot of bad things. They hurt a lot of people. I took my starship to stop them and it broke so I had to fix it. In fixing it, I had to do something that hurt."

"Why? Wasn't it scary?"

"Of course it was scary, but a lot of other people would've gotten hurt if I didn't fix it."

"Daddy?"

Jim looked squarely at McCoy before answering, "Yes ma'am. Your daddy too."

"I guess it was good he was there to make you all better," Joanna stated seriously.

"You bet. I knew he would be there to fix me up."

"Good," she said with a nod of her head.

"Time for breakfast young lady," McCoy headed down the ladder.

McCoy stood at the bottom of the ladder to help Joanna and Jim as they climbed down. Joanna grabbed onto Jim's hand and led them back to the house where breakfast was waiting for them.

###

McCoy couldn't help but grin as he snapped a holo with his data pad. The scene on the sofa was too adorable and it would provide valuable blackmail material for later. Jim was pressed up against the back of the sofa with an arm curled over his daughter. No one on the ship would believe that their Captain was this much of a softie. Granted he had already gotten several blackmail worthy holos from their trip to the aquarium; the one of the two of them in the antique diving suits was bound to be a classic.

"Well isn't that precious?" Ellie stood in the doorway wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

"It sure is. I can't wait to show everyone on the ship this."

"So I'm assuming things are better now?"

Even though she didn't specify, McCoy knew what she meant, "I think so."

"Good. That boy has earned some peace."

"Isn't that the damn truth," McCoy leaned against the doorframe.

"You've earned it too, Leonard."

The two of them turned to leave them be but Joanna shifted her sleep and Jim instinctively pulled her in closer to him. They stayed there silently watching the interaction.

"Uncle Jim," her sleepy voice wafted through the room.

"Hmm?" his voice was as equally thick with sleep.

"You're squishing me."

"'m sorry," he loosened up his hold on the child.

"I had fun today," she turned around into his chest.

"I did too. You're more fun than your grouchy father," he peeped an eye open.

"I heard that," McCoy interjected from the doorframe.

"Good. If she didn't look just like you I'd swear you two weren't related."

"Alright, supper's almost ready," Ellie tried to diffuse the bickering that was about to begin. "You two should clean up. Heavens knows what you were touching in the petting tank at the aquarium."

"All those disease infested invertebrates; you better hope you don't start growing gills or dorsal fin."

"Daddy, you can't grow fins by touching a baby shark," Joanna's eye roll was cute.

"See Bones, Joanna knows."

"Daddy is just a scaredy-cat."

"Don't I know it," Jim rose up. "You should've seen him screaming during our last mission. We were being chased by angry aliens and then we had to jump off a cliff."

"Did daddy wet his pants?"

"Joanna—" McCoy should've been better prepared for the double trouble his daughter and Jim would get into.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did," Jim's trademark shit eating grin was plastered all over his face.

"Daddy?" the little girl was giggling uncontrollably.

"No, Joanna, I did not," McCoy looked to his mother for help but she threw up her hands and retreated back to the kitchen. "Dammit, Jim."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Bones. I'm sure there are plenty of men who wet their pants when they're frightened."

"You two are insufferable," the doctor's face was beet red.

"But you love us," Jim hoisted Joanna up on his hip and carried her to the kitchen leaving McCoy fuming.

Joanna was sitting on Jim's lap by the time he composed himself enough to move. If he didn't love Jim like a brother he would slap the man straight into the next week. It was a sign that things were finally looking brighter; it had been a while since their last bit of lighthearted bickering.

"Just so you know, Miss Joanna, you're dad is probably one of the bravest people on my starship. He just likes to act scared."

"Oh I know, momma calls him a drama queen," Joanna said with all seriousness.

McCoy couldn't help but flash red again as Jim and Ellie started laughing.

"Okay, stop picking on Leonard," Ellie smirked setting down a plate in front of him.

"Jim's a fraidy-cat too, sweet pea."

"No way, Uncle Jim's not afraid of anything,"

"Just ask him if he likes getting shots. He once tried to run and hide behind a Vulcan."

Jim had turned red, "Okay everyone."

"Oh c'mon, Jim," McCoy was smirking between bites of food.

"Is that true, Uncle Jim?" Joanna looked up at her favorite Jim with pleading eyes.

Jim was suddenly stammering trying to explain the situation that ended with him tripping over a Vulcan's outstretched leg right into McCoy who had his hypo primed and ready to strike. Joanna couldn't help but laugh at the thought of her Uncle Jim running from a simple shot. Ellie said nothing as the bickering continued and laughter floated over the dinner table for the first time since they had arrived.

###

"Doctor McCoy?" a nurse was standing in front of him.

He stopped reading to Joanna and looked up at the woman, "The one and only."

"Mr. Kirk is asking for you."

"What for?"

"Doctor Hamilton would like to do a bone marrow aspiration and Mr. Kirk is asking for your opinion."

"Why? He's not supposed to have one for another three weeks."

"Doctor Hamilton feels that Mr. Kirk has reached this set of recovery goals quicker than expected and he wants to confirm it."

McCoy was puzzled, "I have my daughter with me…"

"She is more than welcome to sit with Claire, the receptionist, in the mean time."

He had remembered that his mother played Bridge with the lady, "Okay."

McCoy explained to Joanna that he had to go help Uncle Jim and that he'd be back shortly. He followed the nurse through the maze of corridors to an occupied exam room. Jim was sitting shirtless on the table with his legs hanging off the edge while a middle-aged doctor was sitting at the little desk with a data pad. He noticed that the scar going down his stomach was looking more faint than the last time he saw it.

"Duke," McCoy greeted the doctor with an outstretched hand.

"Leo," his handshake was returned.

Without having to ask, the man handed him the data pad with Jim's chart. He already knew what it was going to show, he'd been keeping up with things for the past week since he'd stopped going into the exam room with Jim.

"I feel that Mr. Kirk here has been making excellent progress towards the goals in your plan and I feel that we can go ahead and do the aspiration. If things look the way I expect, we can go ahead and start him on the next set of goals much earlier than we anticipated."

It was the truth; Jim had been making good progress over the past week. Whether it was remnants from the plasma or Jim's better mood, he would never know.

"What do you think, Bones?" Jim's voice was unusually soft.

McCoy ran a hand through his hair, "Well, I agree with Duke about your progress. Things are looking really good. You can either have the procedure now or in three weeks as originally planned."

"Will I get clearance faster if I do it now?"

"Jim, clearance is a ways away. You still have a long way to go. This means that you can step down from PT every day to twice a week and clinic visits to once a week."

"Oh. What would you do?" Jim asked.

"Knowing how antsy you are…"

"Is this going to ruin my day, Bones?"

"It'll take ten minutes to do it and then you'll have to wait for twenty to thirty minutes afterwards. You can be back home in under an hour," Doctor Hamilton added.

"Fine," Jim grumbled.

"Mr. Kirk, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Nah, PT every day is getting kinda old anyways. It's what your mom calls 'six of one, half dozen the other', right Bones?"

McCoy smirked seeing that his mother's Southern mannerisms were rubbing off.

"Okay then, Mr. Kirk, we can go ahead and get started if you're ready."

Jim nodded, "Yeah, let's get this over with."

The doctor pulled out a folded up paper medical sheet and set it next to his patient, "I'm going to go get the procedure tray, but in the meantime pull your pants down some and lay on your stomach."

"Can Bones stay?" Jim asked quietly.

"Absolutely," the man smiled exiting the room.

"Are you sure you want me to stay Jim?" McCoy asked nervously. "It won't be nearly as bad as the stem cell treatments."

"If you don't mind?"

"Sure, Jim. I'm here for you, you know that right?"

"Yeah, Bones," he unfolded the sheet over himself and got into position.

McCoy had grabbed hold of Jim's hand and brought the rolling stool over with his foot. He had just finished adjusting the height when Doctor Hamilton and a nurse entered.

"Alright, Mr. Kirk, we're gonna give you something to make you kinda drowsy before we start but we'll use a local anesthetic at the site."

Everything was prepared while they for the injected drugs to circulate and Jim was noticeably more relaxed. There was a slight buzzing in the air when the sterile field was activated over the biobed.

"You can close your eyes, Jim. It'll be done in a few minutes. They're going to do the local now," McCoy watched the procedure from the head of the table.

"Feel anything, Mr. Kirk?" Doctor Hamilton called out.

"Just pressure," Jim slurred.

"Great, I'm activating an immobilization field now so don't try to move around."

" 'mmm good."

Jim didn't flinch as the long needle was inserted, but he did let out a small huff when it was pushed into the bone. The fluid was collected and transferred to a small sample vial. In a matter of seconds the needle was removed and a film bandage was placed over the puncture site.

"Mr. Kirk?"

"Yeah?"

"We just needed the fluid so we're all done here. I want you to lie on your back for twenty-ish minutes and then you're good to leave."

" 'mmkay."

The doctor and nurse packed up their supplies and left McCoy to help Jim turn over and pull his pants up, "That wasn't so bad was it?"

Jim grunted sleepily.

"Don't worry, you'll be more awake in ten minutes. They gave you something short acting."

"That's nice," Jim responded without opening his eyes.

"I swear, Jim, you're making great progress all things considering…"

"Not bad for a dead guy?" Jim smirked.

"Jim…" McCoy huffed.

"Sorry, Bones, you opened that door."

"Yeah, yeah. Though, I hate to be all mushy, but I'm glad things are better…with you and between us. I missed what it was like before Khan and that whole shit show."

"Me too, Bones."

There was an awkward silence between the two men until Bones broke it, "Want a visitor?"

"Oh shit, I forgot about Joanna," Jim opened his eyes.

"It's alright, she's been coloring with my mom's Bridge partner."

The two of them got Jim's shirt on without too much effort and the girl was retrieved with several pictures for the both of them to display proudly.

"Uncle Jim?" Joanna cautiously approached the table.

"Some of those better be for me," Jim eyed the colored pages clutched in her hands.

"I'll let you have the first pick."

"I'll get them framed, Joanna McCoy originals," he smiled easing the girl's apprehension.

"Did they hurt you?" she climbed onto her father's lap so she was eye to eye with her favorite uncle.

"No ma'am. It didn't hurt at all."

The two of them chattered aimlessly until the time was up and Jim was much more awake and cleared to leave. They returned to the house after a brief stop at the ice cream shop since both of them had been good. When they got back to Ellie's house, all the traces of the drugs were gone and Jim was wide-awake trying to color up to the little girl's standards at the kitchen table. McCoy sat at the table with them working on his data pad while they supplied him with enough artwork to redecorate his ship's office with. He groaned as Jim added another sheet of paper to the growing pile.

"I wonder what everyone is going to think of you with all this in your office, Bones? No one will fall for that prickly demeanor you have," Jim smirked.

"Don't worry, some of this is going in yours too you big softie."

Jim smiled an honest to goodness smile and continued coloring at Joanna's direction.


	13. Chapter 13

###

"But I don't want you to leave," Joanna sobbed.

Jim was bent down in front of the inconsolable child while McCoy was trying to hold it together. Ellie stood behind Joanna with a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her from latching on to her father or her Uncle Jim.

"Hey now," Jim wiped away a falling tear with his thumb. "It's only for a little while and then you'll be in San Francisco. We'll have all sorts of fun there too."

"It doesn't matter."

"Don't say that. This is only a short good-bye. We had so much fun these past three weeks, you can't not think of that and be happy. Besides, you have my comm signal so you can call me any time you want."

Jim opened his arms and the little girl bolted into him. He wrapped her into the strongest hug he could manage. Despite drastic improvements he was still considerably weaker than he was before. It didn't help that he still needed to nap every afternoon to make it through the entire day. McCoy repeatedly assured him that he was a lot further along than anyone ever expected considering he had died.

"I'm going to miss you," Jim pulled out of the hug.

Joanna quickly bounded into her father's arms equally upset at his departure while Jim stood up to say his goodbyes to Ellie.

"You've come a long way young man," Ellie remarked kissing both of Jim's cheeks.

"Thank you for everything, Ellie. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Any time," her eyes glistened with moisture.

McCoy saw Jim head out the door while trying to calm his daughter down enough to get his own goodbyes in. He tried to talk to her but she buried her face in his neck.

"Listen, Joanna, I promise I'll see you before school starts again. I'm going to come get you and we're going to have a great time in California. We can go to Disneyland if you want?"

"I don't want to go to Disneyland," she sobbed.

"We can still talk every single day if you want to."

"I want you to stay."

"Sweet pea, you know I can't stay."

The only reply he got was the tightening of her little arms around his neck.

"I love you so much, Joanna."

"I love you more, daddy," she sniffled and pulled away leaving his shirt collar damp.

McCoy pulled his mother into a hug without letting go of his daughter, "Thanks for everything, momma."

"You are most certainly welcome Leonard. I'm glad you and Jim got what you needed here," she kissed his cheek.

"I love you, momma."

"I love you too, Leonard. Be safe," she pulled back from their hug taking Joanna with her.

Tears were welling up in his eyes but he was determined to not cry in front of the women so he quickly grabbed his bag and closed the door behind them. Jim was waiting for him with the door open in their rented hovercar. He saw McCoy take two furious swipes at his eyes to remove the moisture.

"You alright, Bones?" Jim asked as McCoy threw his bag into the back seat and settled in the driver's seat.

"Yeah, Jim."

"What would everyone think if the saw us about to cry like babies at the thought of leaving a seven year old?"

"I won't say anything if you won't?"

"Deal."

McCoy quickly powered up the vehicle and used the controls to glide it onto the road. It was only a twenty-minute ride to the Hartsfield-Jackson transportation hub where they returned their rental and boarded a shuttle flight to San Francisco. This time there was no awkward empty seat in between them.

"Thank you for bringing me to Atlanta, Bones," Jim said as they settled into their seats. "I needed this."

"You're welcome, Jim, and I needed this too."

###

"You look like a new person!" Winona cried as she pulled her son into a crushing hug as soon as he stepped through the door to his apartment.

"Hey, Ma," he returned the hug with as much strength as he had.

"You look so good," she pulled back and ran her hands down the side of his face, scoffing at his longer than usual hair and scruff from a week-old beard. "You could use a haircut though."

"I tried to get him to let me do it but he would hide behind Joanna when I'd get out the clippers," McCoy bustled through the door with their bags.

"It's good to see you too, Leonard," Winona gave the doctor a hug.

"I'm glad to be back, the heat was getting unbearable in Atlanta. It was nice to not see a gaggle of reporters flocked around the gates," McCoy dropped their bags by the sofa.

"Thank you, Leonard," she planted a kiss on his cheek. "I think three weeks was long enough for them to get tired of trying to catch a glimpse of him. Well, I know the two of you are tired from traveling so go ahead and take a quick nap before everyone gets here."

"What's going on?" Jim had sprawled out on the sofa.

"Everyone's glad your back so they all wanted to come over for dinner tonight. It's potluck style," Winona had spread out the blanket over her son.

"Scotty's not bringing haggis is he?" McCoy had claimed the chaise lounge as his napping spot.

"I'm not entirely sure," she smirked and spread out another blanket over the doctor. "Alright you two, naps."

"Why do I get the feeling like I'm back in elementary school again?" Jim was sinking deeper into the cushions.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," McCoy's eyes were already closed.

The doctor was out like a light and Jim was not far behind. They managed to get in a couple hours before Winona woke them so they could make them selves more presentable for company, which involved trimming her son's hair and making him shave. Jim was still running his hands through his regulation short hair when the door chime rang throughout the apartment. A delicious aroma wafted through the open door.

"That smells great," Jim greeted Uhura and Spock who were setting dishes onto his dining table.

"You look so much better," Uhura stood on her toes to wrap her arms around Jim's neck.

"I feel better," Jim returned the hug.

"Nyota is correct, you look remarkably more recovered than when you departed," Spock stood in his casual attire with his arms clasped behind his back.

"Hey, Spock!" Jim clapped his hand on the Vulcan's shoulder. "I know we talked while I was gone, but it's good to see you."

"Likewise, Jim."

"How are things with the ship?"

"Progressing as expected. Command and the engineers are reviewing final plans for the refit."

"Any chance I can take a look at them? They've restricted my access with my medical leave."

"I shall ask Doctor McCoy if you are up to it."

"Spoil sport," Jim grinned.

"No shop talk, guys," Uhura interjected from Spock's arm.

For once Jim was okay letting the topic go. If there was anything he had learned while in Atlanta, it was that there were more important things in life and he wasn't going to let them slip through his fingers. He watched McCoy pick at a plate of finger foods while his mother opened the door.

"Hey, hey," Sulu walked in with Chekov at his side, each carrying a covered dish.

"Sulu, Chekov," Jim greeted each of them with a hug when they'd set their dishes on the table.

"Who would've thought Georgia would've been good for you?" Sulu joked.

Jim rubbed his stomach, "Now I know why Bones runs as slow as he does."

"I heard that you little shit," Bones called out from the kitchen.

Sulu laughed while Chekov smiled nervously.

"You alright, Chekov?"

"Y-yes, Captain."

"It's 'Jim' here, no ranks."

Jim's smile seemed to put the young boy at ease, "It'z good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. You did a hell of a job up there."

"Please don't ask me to wear a red shirt ewer again."

"Deal," Jim clapped him on the back and headed for the kitchen.

A glass of extra sweet tea was thrust into his hands; McCoy hadn't been refusing him anything unhealthy to eat so he could regain his lost weight. One of the few perks now that his appetite had returned. He almost missed being in Georgia and the biscuits and gravy that would be waiting for him at breakfast.

"Trying to attract mosquitos with this stuff, Bones?" Jim savored the sugar.

"Just what you need, malaria," McCoy was sipping bourbon from a tumbler.

"Why can't I have that?" Jim frowned.

"Not until you're off your meds."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim consoled himself with another sip of his tea.

"Once Montgomery and Carol arrive we can eat," Winona was tossing a large salad in an impressively large bowl.

"Carol's coming?" Jim perked up.

"Yes," Winona smirked.

"Easy, Jim. No need to get your panties in a bunch."

"Shut up, Bones."

The door chime echoed through the apartment and Jim dashed to the door. Luckily any awkwardness was avoided since Carol was on the other side.

"Carol," Jim's smile was dazzling.

"Captain," she nervously responded.

"It's 'Jim' here. Let me get that for you," he took the bowl from her hands.

"Thank you, Jim."

"I missed you," he led her to the table of food.

"I visited a few times before you woke up, but then you weren't really in the mood for visitors. I went home to England for a bit to be with my mother afterwards anyways."

"Well, you're here now," he flashed her another dazzling smile.

"Don't drool on yourself," McCoy reached between the two of them to grab food from the table. "If you wanna see something really cute, you should see some of the photos of him and my daughter at the aquarium back in Atlanta."

"Oh, I would love to."

Scotty arrived with a huge platter of beef in his arms before Jim got too embarrassed and they were all ushered to the table by Jim's mother. The spread was incredible and the table was packed with food and drinks. Scotty and Carol had teamed up to bring a roast and Yorkshire pudding, while Sulu brought a Japanese noodle dish, Chekov brought his mother's 'famous beet salad', and Spock and Uhura brought a Vulcan and African vegetable dish. McCoy had donated a peach pie to the cause via his mother and daughter. _This was what family dinners were all about._

Jim stood up and everyone fell silent, "I want to thank all of you for being here tonight, I know these past few months haven't been the easiest and I know I haven't been the best of friends to you guys. I had some time to think, and I know now that I wouldn't be here if it weren't for all of you. I want you all to know that I'm not going to waste this chance I've been given. Thank you guys, for everything."

The table was deathly silent as Jim sat back down.

"Here, here laddie," Scotty raised his glass for a toast.

Jim flushed red as the rest of the table followed. Scotty began carving the roast and the conversations restarted. The noise level continued to climb as stomachs were filled and stories were told. Things had finally quieted once everyone was stuffed. The group moved to the living room to digest their feast. As soon as Chekov saw Jim's antique chess set he immediately challenged Spock to a match. It didn't last very long so Winona whipped out a deck of cards and started dealing 5-card stud.

The group played poker well into the night even after several people, including Jim, had fallen asleep. McCoy scoffed at the fact that Carol had also fallen asleep next to him on the sofa. He snapped a holo just in case he would need it later. The party was winding down and people were slowly leaving, and before long it was just he and Winona in the kitchen tidying things up.

"Is he really better?" Winona asked loading up the dishwasher.

"I think so," McCoy was packaging leftovers. "He's still got a ways to go though."

"I don't know if you can see it or not, but that spark is finally back. I can't thank you and your mother for everything you've done for him."

"There's a lot to be said for Southern hospitality."

"You guys sure know how to do it right," Winona stopped what she was doing to face McCoy. "Tell me, Leonard, did you also get what you needed back home?"

McCoy rose up and propped on the open door of the refrigerator, "Yes ma'am I did."

###

"How did it go?" Carol Marcus asked inquisitively as she handed Jim a sandwich from the paper bag in her hands.

"Ugh," Jim groaned as he unzipped his stiff dress jacket and tipped his cover up so it wasn't so low on his forehead anymore.

"That well?" she took a bite of her own unwrapped sandwich.

Jim looked around at all of the people milling about in the small park from his seat on a bench, "I've been assigned to the Academy for the academic year. I'm supposed to teach a senior starship design class. At the end of that I have to pass a flight review physical and a psych eval _and_ then they'll reassess my ability to command."

"That doesn't sound so terrible."

"I guess. I'm supposed to be using this as 'an opportunity to finish my thesis by contributing to the refit of the _Enterprise_," he ripped the paper off the sandwich and tore into it.

"Jim, that's great! That means they're giving you the _Enterprise _when you're done!" bits of food were flying everywhere from Carol's waving of her sandwich.

"Ehhh…"

"Don't you get it? Why else would they be making you teach a class about starship design when _your_ starship is about to be refit?"

"I think this is some form of punishment for breaking that ship, again."

"Fine, wallow in your own self doubt while I celebrate," Carol reached into the paper bag and pulled out a bottle of seltzer water.

"Really?" Jim asked around a mouth full of food.

"Well, I'm not getting on McCoy's bad side for giving you alcohol and this was the closest bubbly, non-alcoholic, substance I could get my hands on after you commed me for lunch."

"Please, like he would actually do anything to you," he took the offered beverage.

"I see how he wields a hypo on you," Carol smirked.

"That man is a menace with a hypo."

"I feel like you do deserve it sometimes."

"Hey now," Jim wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "So where have you been assigned too now that you're no longer trying to stow away onto my ship?"

Carol blushed with embarrassment at the fact that he was still rubbing in the fact that she forged her way onto the _Enterprise_, "It so happens that I've been assigned to Starfleet Core R&D for a terraforming profect."

"That sounds…awful," Jim's fake frown was adorable.

"The labs are Sausalito."

"That's certainly better. Does that mean you'll be living in San Francisco and commuting or are you moving across the bay?" Jim was inching closer to Carol.

"If I had a good reason to stay I might consider living in the city."

Jim closed the remaining distance between the two of them and without a second thought he pressed his lips gently against hers. It was a sweet and simple kiss, leaving both of their hearts fluttering wildly.

"Is that a good enough reason?" Jim's cerulean eyes were sparkling with delight.

"I think I need another," Carol said with a devious smirk.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Well, this is it folks, the last chapter. I want to thank all of you who've dutifully come along for this journey and I'm thrilled that so many of you have enjoyed it. There won't be a sequel to this; I think it ends well with everything tied up nicely. However, there will be more stories in the future…I have one-shot h/c that's almost done and a few other longer stories brewing. Hopefully they'll be out soon!

###

"Booonees, hurry it up. I'm starving up here," Jim peered down over the edge of the cliff.

"Oh please, give me a break. I'm doing the best I can down here and you shouldn't have eaten all of the bars in your bag. I told you I hate rock climbing. It's a broken neck waiting to happen," McCoy growled as he stretched his arm to work his fingers in a small crevice.

Jim tuned out McCoy's continued rant to gaze at the stunning view over Yosemite National Park. It was a great day for climbing, spring was in full swing so the air was on the cool side making climbing was comfortable and the skies were a gorgeous blue. There wasn't a single speck of civilization as far as he could see. He took in a lungful of the crisp air and relished in his peace of mind. _It's beautiful up here._

McCoy looked up the last ten meters or so that he had to go to see Jim staring off in the distance. The kid had come a long way since the past summer. He didn't pause for long, otherwise he would have to listen to Jim complain the whole time he finished the climb. With his fingers secure he pushed himself up to the next hold and drove a cam into the rock. He reattached his safety lines to the new anchor point and reached up another meter. The process continued until he finally hauled himself over the edge of the cliff and lay panting on the ground.

Jim's cheeky grin was hovering over him, "Nice to see you finally up here, Bones."

"Shut up you little shit," he pushed himself upright and emptied one of his two water canteens.

"C'mon, old man, don't tell me that wasn't fun!" Jim was already digging in McCoy's pouch for the food bars.

"You and I have very different definitions of fun," he unwrapped his own bar.

"At least we're taking the trail down, I think you'd toss your cookies if you had to repel down."

"Why couldn't I just take the trail up here to meet you?" McCoy inhaled his bar and Jim was working on his second.

"You do realize that it defeats the purpose of rock climbing right? Besides, who else would I want to torture?"

"I'm not above launching you over the edge for a quicker trip back to the camp."

"Please…" Jim rolled his eyes. "Let's get going, we promised Joanna we'd make s'mores when we got back. There's no telling what Uhura and Carol have gotten her into."

Jim held out his hand to McCoy and helped him stand. Nearly a year ago he couldn't even lift his head off a pillow and here he was pulling a grown man to his feet. He felt full of energy and life.

"Do you think we can get that green blooded hobgoblin to eat s'mores?" McCoy stretched out the kinks in his arms before following Jim down the trail.

"I think not, Bones. He knows there's chocolate in them."

"It'd still be funny."

They continued to walk in silence, just observing the scenes and wildlife around them. It would be a while before they got to do this again. The next time they would be doing this would be on an alien planet somewhere. Jim had been given the news in a surprise meeting with Command just after the Academy's winter break had ended. Him and his entire crew were shipping out for the first ever five-year mission on the _Enterprise_ after the academic year ended.

McCoy broke the silence while they were taking a break to answer nature's call, "Are you ready for your big speech?"

"Uh, I guess," Jim answered from behind his own tree.

"Have you written it yet?"

"What do you think?"

"Jim, this isn't something you can leave off to the last minute," he finished and made his way back to the trail.

"I know what I'm doing, Bones," Jim joined him and they continued down the path.

"I for one don't want you to make an ass of yourself in front of the majority of Starfleet and the press."

"What, with this face?" Jim smirked. "Besides, I still have a couple of months."

"Jim—"

"Bones, the _Enterprise_ hasn't even undergone her warp trials yet, relax. I'll be ready for it."

"Are you taking her out for them?"

Jim looked a little disappointed, "Actually no. They're doing them in two weeks and I still have class. Spock and Scotty are going to be doing them."

"You're okay with this?" McCoy saw the flash of disappointment on Jim's face.

"I trust that Spock and Scotty know what they're doing."

"That didn't answer it."

"Yeah, I guess I'm a little upset. I wanted to be there when she comes back to life, but I owe it to my class to be there."

"How grown up of you, Jim," McCoy smiled.

"If I'm a grown up, what does that make you? Ancient?" Jim quickened his pace to get out of McCoy's reach.

"Why you brat!" McCoy chased after him.

###

"Uncle Jim!" was all the warning he got before an eight year old barreled at him at full speed.

He caught the blur of a child and threw her in the air before catching her giggling self, "Why hello, Miss Joanna. Did you and the girls have fun?"

"They're the best! They did my hair, nails, and toes!"

McCoy's eyebrow arched suspiciously at the neon polish on her finger nails and the intricate braid that wrapped around her head. It was certainly prettier than the simple ponytail that either Jim or him could accomplish during the child's weeklong visit. His week with her was coincidently scheduled at the same time as their trip so she was invited too so that the entire senior command crew could attend. The last weekend of the Academy's spring break was the only time all of them could get together to celebrate for their upcoming mission before the start of intensive training began.

"And what a fine job they did," Jim set her down so she could run to her father.

"Hey, sweet pea," McCoy picked Joanna up and gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"I missed you, daddy!" she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Did you and Uncle Jim have fun?"

"Of course we did, you see that cliff over there," he held the child with one arm and pointed to the cliff that they had just returned from.

"You climbed that one?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Of course he was scared, Miss Joanna," Jim chimed in.

"Go get dinner started," McCoy smacked Jim on the arm.

"I will when Chekov and Sulu get back with…there they are."

McCoy turned to see the navigator and helmsman returning with a cooler between the two of them.

"Let me see," Joanna wiggled her way out of her fathers arms to the cooler that had been set down by a portable table.

Chekov opened the lid with a huge smile on his face, until the little girl shrieked with horror. The poor ensign was at a loss of what to do with the screaming child.

"What's wrong?" McCoy was at his daughter's side in an instant and the rest of the crew crowded around them.

McCoy looked into the cooler to find several trout swimming around in the water. He immediately started laughing.

"It's okay, sweet pea, that's dinner."

"We're going to eat them?" the little girl was truly horrified.

"You are welcome to dine with me as I do not eat meat," Spock offered.

"But everyone else is going to eat them?" Joanna was on the verge of tears now.

Jim stepped in before the rest of the crew's dinner plans were cancelled, "Let me see your hands."

Joanna offered her hands to Jim with complete trust. He put his larger ones around hers and guided them into the cooler; they closed their hands over one of the wriggling fish and pulled it out flopping. Joanna tried to pull back but Jim's hands were steady over hers around the fish. The fish stilled and Joanna wriggled her fingers over the scales.

"He's not so scary is he?" Jim kept his hands over Joanna's.

"No. Do we have to kill him?"

Jim drew in a deep breath, "Yeah we do, but remember that he ate a smaller fish, that ate a smaller fish, and so on. It's how life works."

"So we're bigger so we have to eat him?"

"That's how it goes. Don't worry; once dinner is ready it won't even look like this anymore. It'll look like what you get at the grocery store."

"Are you sure?"

"I promise."

Joanna looked hesitantly at the fish before nodding. Jim lowered their hands back into the cooler and let the fish go. Everyone let out a sigh of relief that dinner was back on. Uhura and Carol guided Joanna away from the table where the guys were busy getting the fish ready to cook. They all sat around a roaring campfire for dinner passing stories back and forth until Scotty pulled out bags of marshmallows and several chocolate bars. Sulu passed around some old fencing blades while Jim passed out packages of graham crackers.

"You're doing it all wrong," Joanna watched Spock hold his marshmallow directly in the flame only to have it burn to a crisp.

"I defer to your expertise, Miss McCoy."

Joanna huffed around to other side of the fire to help the Vulcan. She speared a new marshmallow for him and directed him to hold it over some embers on near the outside of the fire. After several minutes he had a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

"I will not be consuming chocolate, Miss McCoy," Spock said to the outstretched graham cracker and chocolate.

"You can't have a s'more without it."

"Yes ma'am," Spock agreed to everyone's astonishment.

Everyone was watching as Joanna held the chocolate and crackers ready for the marshmallow, and Spock took a small bite from the corner of the finished product. McCoy snapped a quick holo of the Vulcan with marshmallow cream at the corners of his mouth.

"Who would've thought your daughter could get a Vulcan to eat chocolate, Bones?" Jim was grinning ear to ear.

With Spock able to perfectly roast his own marshmallows, Joanna reclaimed her spot under a shared blanket with her father. Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov had already gone through a bag of marshmallows by themselves. Carol was tucked into Jim's side while he held the blade with several marshmallows speared on it. Uhura discretely had traded Spock a non-chocolate s'more and ate the rest of his. It wasn't long afterwards that Joanna fell asleep in her father's arms and the rest of crew passed out various bottles of beers while he went to put her in their tent to sleep. McCoy wasted no time in downing his first beer when he returned to his spot.

"Is she out?" Jim asked draining his own beer.

"Like a light," McCoy was already opening another.

"Does she know yet?" Uhura asked sipping her own beer.

Sadness crept across McCoy's face, "Yeah, I told her at the beginning of the week."

"How did she take it?" Carol buried deeper into Jim's side.

"Eh, as you'd expect. She cried for a while and then bounced back."

"My momma cried too when I told her," Chekov added.

"Ah all this sadness, we're going on a right grand adventure!" Scotty lifted his flask.

"To a grand adventure," Jim raised his beer. "The next time we do this it will be on a different planet."

Everyone followed suit, Spock raised his water canteen, and clinked the bottles with each other. Those drinking were pleasantly buzzed by the time the fire was extinguished for the night and everyone returned to their tents.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when Jim finally gave up trying to go to sleep. Carol was sound asleep next to him despite his constant tossing and turning. He shrugged on his old academy sweatshirt over his warm pajamas and climbed outside the tent into the cold night air.

"Are you unable to sleep, Jim?" Spock was bundled up next to the fire embers.

"Yeah," Jim put the coffee canteen on the embers to warm up before sitting next to his First Officer. "You?"

"I was meditating using the embers."

"Oh, I can go—"

"That is unnecessary, I have achieved sufficient rest."

"Well that's good," Jim poked at the embers with a forgotten fencing blade.

"Are you still plagued by nightmares?"

"Not really these days, my counselor and I have been working on it. I've been okay for a few months."

"That is excellent news. Both your physical and psychological recovery over the past nine months has been remarkable."

"Considering I was actually dead, yeah I'd say so too."

"That is not—"

"It's okay, I'm good with it now."

"If I may ask a personal query, what is causing your inability to sleep?"

"Just wanted to look at the stars," Jim poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Are you experiencing anxiety about the upcoming mission?"

"I guess that's what it is. No one's ever done this before."

"Hence it being the first," Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Jim smiled. "I just, I just don't want to fuck it all up. I want to do it right."

"Despite a statistical likelihood of difficulties, the overall outcome will be successful. I have the confidence to presume that this mission will provide numerous benefits."

"Aren't you all sentimental all of a sudden. That chocolate must've hit you harder than you thought."

"Negative, Jim, I feel no effects from intoxication."

"I'm glad you and Bones are going to be there."

"I am curious as to how you convinced Doctor McCoy to agree to an extended mission in deep space? He has voiced his aversion to space flight on numerous occasions."

"Oh, like he'd ever want to be left behind on our adventures. He certainly complains a lot, but he loves exploring."

"It will be a memorable adventure."

"Yes it will, Spock."

The two of them sat in a companionable silence watching the sunrise over the valley, illuminating the rich colors of the stone and vegetation.

###

"Jim, hold still," Carol scolded the fidgety captain under her fingers as she tried to fasten the neck closure of his dress uniform.

"I'm trying," he blew out a deep breath.

"You're nervous aren't you?" McCoy smirked.

"What gave that away?" Jim snapped.

"You wouldn't be so nervous if you would've written your speech ahead of time, like I told you to."

"Yes, Bones, it's all my fault," he pulled at the tight collar. "I just want to get this right. I owe it to everyone."

"Stop it, you'll only undo it again," Carol smacked his hand away from his neck. "Don't worry, you'll do great."

"You all right, Jim?" there was genuine look of concern on the doctor's face.

"I'm good," Jim let out another deep breath.

"Sirs," an ensign interrupted.

McCoy pulled Jim into a crushing hug, "You got this, kid."

"Thanks, Bones," Jim clapped the man on the back. "Thanks for everything."

McCoy pulled back and patted Jim on his cheek, "We'll wait for you at the end."

Jim just nodded, knowing that if he opened his mouth that there was a possibility his breakfast could return. He watched McCoy and Carol leave the little preparation room while he was left with the ensign.

"Ready, sir?"

"As I'll ever be," he followed the ensign out of the room.

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